


1095 Days

by Obsession137



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dark!Tony, Death Threats, Humiliation, M/M, Murder, Murderer!Tony, Not A Happy Ending, Prison Sex, Rape, Smut, Suicide Attempt, Thief!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsession137/pseuds/Obsession137
Summary: Tony Stark is in prison for a life-sentence, and he gets a new cell-mate.  Peter Parker.  Young, innocent, sexy.  Tony has to make Peter HIS.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This is non-con/rape. Please don't read if you aren't comfortable!

Prison was a pretty boring place to be, in general.  There were occasional fights, and every now and then something interesting would happen, but most of the time things were repetitive and monotonous.  Most days were the exact same as the days previous.  The same routines, the same food, the same faces. 

Tony Stark was serving a life sentence for first-degree murder.  He’d killed a man when he was in his late twenties, and now in his mid-forties he was accustomed to prison life.  He knew the ins and outs, and he knew the people.  There were some prisoners who were in it for the long run like himself, but most people came and went.  Some people even left and ended up back in prison again shortly after. 

It had taken a couple of years, but Tony had established himself as a respectable member of the prison community.  It was rare for another prisoner to pick a fight with him.  And as for the new meat, Tony always got dibs.  He wasn’t ashamed of his affinity for young, fresh-faced men, and if any other prisoner had something against his affinity, he’d put them firmly in their place.  Many a prisoner had been sent to the infirmary for talking shit about Tony’s sexual escapades with the freshman prisoners – as they were called.

But for the most part, Tony found prison life dull. Before prison, he’d been a celebrated scientist in his field.  He was smart – smarter than most people, in fact, and he never failed to mention that fact.  He’d had his whole successful career ahead of him, with Nobel Prizes and awards, and maybe even a future wife and kids on the table.  But he’d thrown it away in an instant with the pulling of a trigger, and so he was here.

His cell was exactly the same as every other cell – a bunk-bed, a metal toilet and sink, and a rickety table with a chair to sit on.  The cell door was a row of bars with a lock on the right-hand side.  There was no privacy, and that was to be expected.  This was a high-security prison, after all.   The only privacy one had was when a prisoner was having a… well… _intimate_ moment with another prisoner.  It had become common for prisoners to hang bedsheets up across their cell doors when having sex, just for that extra bit of privacy.  But other than that, everything was on full view. 

Tony was alone in his cell at the moment.  His previous cell-mate, Steve, had been transferred to another cell due to the numerous fights that had broken out between them.  The two had clashed, and both had ended up in the infirmary multiple times.  Tony had got to keep the cell, as it had been his cell for most of his years at the prison.  Steve had been relocated to another cellblock, much to Tony’s relief.  He was quite happy to be alone with his thoughts.  Sharing a cell could be tiresome, but it all depended on who the other person was. 

When the C.O appeared in front of Tony’s cell door, Tony pretty much knew he’d be getting a new cell-mate.  It was overdue.  He just hoped it wouldn’t be another Steve.

“Stark,” the C.O said briskly, staring in through the bars at Tony.  Tony stood up and raised his eyebrows.  The C.O spoke again.  “You’ve got a new cellie.”

Tony waited silently.  The C.O unlocked the door to his cell, slid it open and then turned to face someone who was out of Tony’s sight.  “Parker, this is your cell,” he said.  Just then, a young man came into Tony’s line of sight.  He hesitantly stepped inside the cell, and the C.O gave him a light shove so that he was inside the cell enough that he could lock the door.  Tony glanced up at the C.O, who was giving him an apprehensive look.  “Play _nice_ , Stark,” he said in a knowing tone.  Tony smiled sweetly at the C.O without a word, as he disappeared, leaving him alone with his new cell-mate.

The young man – or _boy_ , as Tony liked to think of him – didn’t seem to want to look at Tony, but Tony simply couldn’t stop looking at _him_.  He was very young, _very_ sexy, and so innocent-looking that Tony couldn’t possibly imagine how he had ended up in prison for any crime other than being too fucking hot for his own good.  Tony subtly licked his lips and then held out a hand for the boy to shake.  “Tony Stark,” he introduced himself calmly.

The boy looked down at Tony’s hand as though it was a dangerous animal that would attack him at any moment. His gaze rose slowly to meet Tony’s.  He looked fearful, and Tony found it somehow alluring.  The boy’s hand came up to shake Tony’s, and Tony could feel how sweaty his palm was.  “I- I’m Peter.  Um, Peter Parker,” he mumbled in barely a whisper, letting go of Tony’s hand almost immediately after shaking it.

“You nervous, Parker?” Tony asked, leaning back against the bunk and smirking at Peter with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“N-Nervous?” Peter asked, looking extremely uncomfortable.  “No.”

Tony stared at Peter with a ravenous look in his eye.  He _wanted_ him.  And Tony always got what he wanted.  Guys like Peter were very rare, but they were always Tony’s favourite play-things.  They were pure, they were clean, they were submissive.  They were so easily manipulated.

“You _should_ be nervous,” Tony said, staying in the same position.  He smirked more when he noticed Peter taking an anxious step backwards towards the wall of the cell.

“Will you… will I… which bunk shall I-”

“-What did such a pretty boy like yourself do to get yourself locked up?” Tony interrupted, loving the way Peter’s face reddened at his words.

“I’m… sorry?” Peter asked.

“What _crime_ did you commit?  You might _look_ like a good little boy, but you must have done _something_ wrong to get in here.”

He watched as Peter looked down at his hands, seemingly ashamed of himself.  “I- well, I… I stole some stuff.  I’m not proud of myself.  It was a… a desperate mistake.”

Tony raised his eyebrows.  Of _course_.  “A thief, huh?” he said.  Thieves were always the naughtiest, and they always tended be a good fuck.  Tony was impressed so far.

Peter nodded, blushing more.  “Yeah, I- I guess so.”

“Don’t you wanna ask what _I_ did?” Tony asked, standing up straight again and taking a step towards Peter.

“What did you do?” Peter asked quietly.  He attempted to step back, but there was nowhere to step back to.  His back was pressed against the cold wall of the cell.

Tony continued stepping forward.  He was now inches away from Peter, and he couldn’t stop staring at those soft, lightly-parted pink lips…

He cleared his throat and leaned in towards Peter’s ear.  “I killed a man,” Tony whispered, almost seductively.  He felt the boy shudder at his words, and he couldn’t help but smile.  “But don’t worry, baby,” he added, still in a whisper, “You’re too pretty to kill.”

Tony leaned back slightly, giving Peter a little bit of room to breathe.  He brought his hand up to brush his thumb gently across Peter’s rosy cheek, caressing his smooth skin and staring intently into his deep brown eyes.  Peter seemed to be frozen in place.  He was trembling, and his eyes glistened with tears that were threatening to escape.  Tony reached his other hand up to the top of the cell door, releasing a large white bedsheet.  The sheet dropped, covering the bars of the cell to give them both some privacy.

“Do you know what it means when we cover the cell door with a sheet?” Tony asked, rubbing his thumb over Peter’s cheek again.

“I- I don’t-”

“-It means we’re going to make love,” Tony murmured, using his free hand to grab Peter by the waist and pull him closer.  Tony breathed hotly against Peter’s ear and he was pretty sure that Peter was now crying.  “I’m going to make love to you, Parker.”

“Please don’t,” Peter managed to say, his voice sounding desperate and strained.

Tony tutted, regarding Peter with a disappointed look in his eyes.  “You don’t want that, hm?” he asked softly, leaning in again and biting gently on Peter’s ear.  He heard a small whimper come from Peter’s trembling lips.

“No, I- I don’t-”

“That’s okay, sweetheart, we won’t do that,” Tony said, letting go of him.  Peter looked surprised, but mostly relieved.  Tony watched the boy wipe away his tears, and he smiled down at him.  Peter was truly beautiful.  Tony didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone so beautiful in his life.  He allowed himself a minute to appreciate Peter’s beauty, before he grabbed him again, roughly.

“What’re you doing?” Peter gasped, trying to break free from Tony’s grasp but failing completely.  Tony was a _lot_ stronger.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Tony growled, turning Peter around and throwing him down onto the bottom bunk with much more force than what was necessary.  He needed to show Peter who was boss.  “You don’t want to make love.  Sure, that hurts my feelings, but that’s alright.  If you don’t want to make love, you’re getting fucked.  And you’re going to enjoy it for me, aren’t you?”

“ _Please_ ,” Peter sobbed.  It was almost heart-breaking for Tony to hear the boy beg so sweetly for him _not_ to do it, but he knew that there wasn’t a choice.  He _had_ to do it.  He had to make Peter _his_.  He had to make all of the other prisoners _know_ that Peter was his.  He had to make _Peter_ know that he belonged to Tony now.  He was Tony’s property, and Tony owned him completely.

Tony climbed on top of him, pushing his whole weight against Peter’s small body.  “You belong to me now, alright?  Shhhh, it’s okay.  I won’t hurt you.  Not unless you resist.” He placed his hand over Peter’s mouth, silencing him.  He could feel Peter’s tears soaking into his skin, and he felt how the younger man sobbed into his hand.  “That’s a good boy.  Shhhh.”

They stayed in that position for a moment, Tony giving Peter a chance to calm down and come to terms with what was going to happen.  After a minute, Tony stood up.  Peter stayed, lying face-down on Tony’s bunk, quiet sobs making the bed shake a little.

“Get up,” Tony ordered.  Peter didn’t respond, so Tony grabbed him by the back of his prison uniform and pulled him up.  Peter narrowly missed whacking his head on the top bunk.  Tony loved how light the boy was – so easy to control.  “Are you deaf?”

“Please,” Peter said quietly.  “You… you don’t have to do this.”

Tony ignored him, turning him around so that they were facing one another, and ripped his uniform open from the front, letting it fall to the floor.  Peter scrambled to try and pick it up, but Tony shoved him back onto the bed again and shook his head.  “Not happening.”

“T-Tony-”

“-It’s _Mr Stark_ to you,” Tony growled.  “Or _Sir_.”

“Sir, _please_ ,” Peter begged, trying to get back up, but finding himself being pushed back.  Tony quickly pulled his own clothes off and straddled the younger man.  He glanced down to pull off Peter’s boxers and smirked. 

“Nice Star Wars boxers,” he commented.  “How old are you, anyway?”

“N-Nineteen,” Peter replied in an obvious attempt to sound confident, but his nervous stutter gave it away.

 _Nineteen_ , Tony thought, licking his lips.  _Perfect_.

“I like them young,” Tony said, grabbing Peter’s boxers and pulling them off with one hand, while his other hand held him down.  “You youngsters are able to handle more, you know.  I can be rough with you and you’ll be able to take it, won’t you?”

“I’m… I…” Peter looked utterly destroyed already.  “I’m a- a virgin.”

Tony’s face lit up at this revelation.  Nineteen years old, a thief _and_ a virgin.  It was almost as good as a C.O coming into his cell right now and announcing that he was free to leave.

“Turn over,” Tony said.  “I want to see your pretty little ass.”

Peter stared up at him, looking terrified.  “No,” he said, defiantly. 

“No?”

“I won’t.”

Tony shrugged and got up, turning Peter over easily. 

“Please _stop_ ,” Peter cried, struggling against Tony’s hold, trying to get up.  Tony held him down, his fingers digging into Peter’s shoulders. 

“You’re being a bad boy, aren’t you?” Tony said, leaning over him and brushing his hard cock against Peter’s ass.  “Do you know what happens to bad boys?”

“I-”

“-They get treated like dirty little sluts,” Tony murmured against Peter’s ear.  He lowered his head and bit Peter’s neck softly, sucking and nipping at the skin, trying to leave his mark.  He wanted Peter to have to walk around tomorrow with bruises all over him – signs that he was the property of Tony Stark.

Peter was still struggling, but Tony was now completely on top of him, and his slight build was no match against Tony’s muscular build.  Tony bit a little too hard on Peter’s neck, drawing blood and making Peter gasp. 

“Are you my dirty little slut now, Parker?” Tony asked.  He ran his tongue over Peter’s sensitive skin, tasting his blood.

“No,” Peter said in barely a whisper, his voice muffled by the mattress.  He had his face pressed into it, and there was a damp patch from where he’d been crying.

Tony rubbed his cock harder against Peter and used his hand to pin Peter’s hands above his head.  “You _are_ , aren’t you?”

“ _Please-_ ”

“You’re a feisty one, and I love that,” Tony said in a low voice.  “But either you’re my dirty little slut or I’ll fucking murder you.  Your choice.  We both know I’m capable.”

He heard Peter gasp, and he felt him tremble beneath him.

“So, what are you, Parker?”

“I- I’m… your… I’m your dirty little slut,” Peter mumbled through tears.

“Good boy,” Tony said with a smile, still rubbing himself against Peter’s ass.  “That’s such a _good_ boy.  Now I’m going to fuck you, and I want you to take it like the good little slut you are.  Can you do that for me?”

Peter didn’t say a word, but Tony saw him nod. 

“I didn’t hear you, slut,” Tony said coldly.

“Y-yes,” Peter whispered.

“Yes _Sir_ ,” Tony corrected.  “Say it.”

He watched as Peter closed his eyes.  “Yes.  Sir,” he said quietly, and Tony knew Peter’s heart wasn’t in it, but it still turned him on nonetheless.  He would condition this boy to love it over time.  He could have _so_ much fun with this one. 

Because Peter had resisted so much, Tony refused to give him the liberty of preparation.  He’d get fucked, _raw_.  And since Tony knew that this was Peter’s first time, he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant for the younger man.  Maybe that would teach him a lesson about being obedient in the future.

Without so much as a warning, Tony lined himself up with Peter’s tight hole and forced himself inside.  It was tough, and he had to push hard.  Peter was crying out in pain, and that only urged Tony on more.  He kept pushing.  It was so tight, and Tony loved it. 

“Please _stop_ ,” Peter begged, between pained noises.  “Please, it _hurts_.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tony grunted, thrusting deep inside him.  “Take it, you fucking slut.”

Peter had decided on a new approach.  He started screaming “ _help!_ ” in some hope of a C.O taking pity on him and helping him out, but Tony was fully aware of how corrupt the staff were in this place.  Tony still had a lot of people in high places on the outside, and they had chequebooks with the C.O’s names in them.  Nobody was coming to Peter’s rescue.

Tony fucked Peter as hard as he could, using the top bunk as something to hold onto, to give him enough power to plunge into Peter’s tight ass with all the strength he had.  Peter was a mess beneath him.  He was still calling for help, but his cries had become weak, broken, hopeless…

“Nobody’s helping you,” Tony muttered between thrusts.  “Nobody _cares_.”

Peter had stopped resisting at this point.  His body had become slack, just allowing Tony to use him.  He’d given up.  But Tony could still hear his muffled sobs.

“Do you want me to stop?” Tony asked.

“Yes,” Peter said.

“Yes?”

There was a pause, and then Peter spoke.  “Yes _Sir_.”

“Mmmm, good boy,” Tony moaned, thrusting harder, close to orgasm.  “If you want me to stop, you need to do one thing for me, baby.”

“Anything, Sir,” Peter whispered, sounding drained.  Tony loved what he’d turned the boy into – a whimpering, submissive mess.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony breathed, getting lost in the moment as he slammed into Peter.  “Mmm, I need you to tell me what you are.  Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

He could still hear Peter crying.  “Yeah, I- I can do that.”

Tony couldn’t last much longer.  It felt too fucking good. “Go on,” he murmured, keeping up the same pace.

He felt Peter wince beneath him.  “I’m… I… I’m your s-slut, Sir,” Peter said with a shaky voice.

“Fuck yeah, you are,” Tony said, pulling out quickly and stroking his cock.  He grabbed Peter around the waist, pulling him off the bed and turning him around to face him.  He shoved him to the floor of the cell onto his knees.  “Suck my dick.”

Peter’s tear-stained eyes stared up at him for a moment with a pleading look, but Tony grabbed his head and forced his cock into Peter’s mouth.  “Look at you, tasting your own ass,” Tony said, holding Peter’s head in place and fucking his mouth roughly.  Peter was gagging and his eyes watered, and Tony was _so_ close.  “You love tasting yourself, don’t you, slut?”

Peter nodded, choking on Tony’s cock.  Tony smirked and pushed himself further down Peter’s throat.  “I didn’t hear you,” he teased.

Peter tried to speak, but he only gagged louder.  Tony let go of his head, and Peter pulled back, gasping for air, with a string of saliva running down his chin.  His eyes were streaming and his face was read.  Tony only gave him a second to recover before shoving his cock back into his mouth.

“I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” Tony said.  “You’re gonna swallow every last drop, aren’t you, baby?”

Peter tried speaking again, and he gagged again.  Tony was done; he fucked Peter’s mouth hard, moaning loudly as he came, hot white ropes of cum spilling down Peter’s throat.  He kept fucking Peter’s mouth until he was too sensitive to thrust anymore, and then he pulled his cock out.  He brought his hand to Peter’s mouth, forcing his mouth shut.

“Swallow it.”

Peter swallowed.  Tony smiled.  He’d trained him well in the short amount of time they’d been together. 

“Such a good boy,” Tony crooned, leaning down and planting a kiss on Peter’s lips.   “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Peter blinked and wiped away his tears.  He was still naked and on his knees.  He only shook his head, looking broken. 

“What was your name again?” Tony asked, fully aware of what his name was.

“P-Peter-”

“- _Wrong_ ,” Tony said loudly.  “Slut.  Your new name is _Slut_.  You’ll go by that name from now on.  You got it?”

Peter nodded, closing his eyes.

“Good.  You can have the top bunk.”

Peter shakily got to his feet and grabbed his clothes.  Tony watched as he got dressed and climbed into the top bunk of the bed.  After a few moments, Tony got dressed too and then removed the sheet from the cell door.  He climbed into the bottom bunk and smirked to himself.

“Hey, Slut?” he said, staring above him as though he could actually see Peter through the mattress.

“Y-yes?”

He grinned.  Good – he was answering to his new name.  “I had fun today.”

Silence.

“We’ll do it again tomorrow,” Tony continued, even though Peter hadn’t replied.  “And the day after, and the day after… say, how long is your sentence?”

There was a pause, and the Peter spoke in a quiet voice.  “Three years,” he said.

“Three years,” Tony repeated.  “1095 days of getting fucked by me.  I hope you’re up for it.”

The only response Tony got was a stifled sob.  Tony couldn’t be happier.  Prison wouldn’t be so boring after all – well, at least not for the next three years, anyway.


	2. Day 365

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much to popular request, here's chapter 2!!

“Stark, you’re free to go back to your cell.”

Tony stood up as the dark room was bathed in light.  The C.O stood in the doorway, gesturing for Tony to follow him.  He’d been in solitary confinement for at least ten days, so he was glad to finally be going back to his actual cell.  Solitary confinement was awful – it was dark, cold, and there was nobody to talk to.  Meals were slid through bars, and the only time he got to stretch his legs was for ten minutes in the morning and ten minutes in the evening, although he wasn’t even allowed outside in the courtyard like the other prisoners.

Tony had been sent to solitary confinement after getting into a fight with another prisoner.  The other prisoner had threatened Peter.  He’d shoved the boy against a wall and held a weapon to his throat.  As soon as Tony had noticed what was going on, he was straight over to put the other guy in his place.  _Nobody_ touched Peter.  He was Tony’s.  And nobody was _allowed_ to hurt him.  So Tony ended up in solitary confinement while the other guy was shipped off to get specialist plastics treatment for the wounds Tony had inflicted on him.

But Tony’s isolation was over, and he couldn’t be happier.  He followed the C.O back to his cell without issue, smiling as he heard other prisoners cheer for him.  He was still pretty popular amongst the prison population.  When he reached his cell, the C.O opened the door for him and let him inside.

Peter was there, lying on the top bunk reading a book.  When he saw Tony he quickly stuffed the book under his pillow and climbed down from the bunk.  Tony waited for the C.O to leave them before he turned to look at Peter, casually dropping the sheet as he stared at the younger boy.

Peter stared back at Tony and then fell to his knees.  Without so much as a word, his hands came up to stroke Tony through his clothes.  It didn’t take long for Tony to get hard, what with his little slut touching him like that.  It had been _ten days_.  He was in dire need of sex.  Tony slowly started unzipping the front of his uniform, and then shrugged it off completely.  He kicked it to the side, running his fingers through Peter’s soft brown curls.  Peter fingered the waistband of Tony’s boxers, staring up with a small smirk on his face.

“What’re you smirking about?” Tony asked, his voice deep with pure lust. 

“Nothing, Sir,” Peter responded, pulling Tony’s boxers down completely.  Tony kicked them to the side alongside his other clothes. 

Tony was about to speak again when Peter’s mouth was suddenly surrounding his cock.  He let out a low moan as he felt the wetness on his skin, making his cock get impossibly harder.  Peter gripped onto Tony to support himself, his fingernails digging into Tony’s hips.  He moved his head up and down on Tony’s dick, letting it leave his mouth completely and then dipping back down to take the whole thing till he was practically gagging on it.  Tony couldn’t help but move his hips slightly, pushing deeper into Peter’s mouth. 

“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” Tony murmured, tugging at Peter’s hair harder.  He heard the boy moan softly and then he pulled back so that his cock was no longer in Peter’s mouth.  “What’s this for?”

Peter was gasping for breath as he spoke.  “To thank you,” he said, staring up at Tony submissively.  “For saving me.  I owe you my life, Sir.”

“Mmm, too right you do,” Tony said, shoving his cock back into Peter’s mouth.  This time he decided to take control, holding Peter’s head in place and thrusting deep into his mouth.  He could feel Peter resisting against him, but he didn’t let the boy get any air.  The sounds of wetness, gagging and coughing turned Tony on more than anything.  He stared down at Peter as he fucked his mouth, watching as Peter struggled to maintain eye contact with watery eyes and spit running down his chin.

“You like that, don’t you?” Tony said, pulling his cock out for a second and hungrily watching Peter try to catch his breath.  Peter lifted his hand to wipe away the spit from his chin, but Tony slapped his hand away.  “I don’t think so.”

“I- I’m sorry, Sir,” Peter said quickly, his face going red.

“You can keep that all over your face,” Tony said.  “In fact, since you had the cheek to think I’d let you wipe it away, let me add to it.”

Peter nodded, staring up at Tony obediently and putting both of his hands behind his back as he’d been taught.  Tony sucked back his saliva and then spat on Peter’s face, watching in satisfaction as the boy flinched.  He grabbed his cock and used it to smear the saliva across Peter’s mouth, and then inside. 

“You slut,” Tony said sharply, thrusting a couple more times into his mouth and then pulling out completely and slapping him across the face, making Peter collapse against the floor.  He clutched at his cheek, but didn’t make a sound.

Tony sighed.  “Get up,” he said.  Peter scrambled to his feet, keeping his hands behind his back.  Tony brought his hand up to lightly caress Peter’s cheek where he’d struck him.  The skin was red and looked sore.  “Did you miss me, baby?”

“So much,” Peter whispered.  “I missed you _so_ much.”

“Did you stroke your pretty little cock at night thinking of me?” Tony murmured, leaning closer and making Peter shiver.

“Every night,” Peter said quietly, not breaking eye contact with the older man.  Tony smirked.

“What did you think about?”

“I thought about my Daddy,” Peter mumbled.  Tony’s lips were now inches away from Peter’s, and Tony could feel Peter’s breath on his skin as he spoke.  “About how I wanted my Daddy to come back, to fuck me.”

Tony closed the gap between them with a slow, soft kiss that only lasted ten seconds, and then he pulled away, looking down at Peter with lust.

“Well Daddy’s back now, baby,” Tony said softly.  “And you’ve been such a good little boy, touching yourself for me and thanking me by sucking me off.”

“Thank you,” Peter said, smiling slightly at the compliment. 

“Now get yourself out of those clothes.  I want you completely naked and lying on my bed in ten seconds.  Can you do that?”

Peter nodded.

“Go on then, sweetheart.  Ten, nine, eight…”

Peter was already stripping off, and by the time Tony had reached ‘three’, he was lying on Tony’s bed naked.  Tony stepped towards the bed and spread Peter’s legs wide apart, licking his lips at the beautiful body beneath him. 

“Since you’ve been so good, I’m gonna let you prepare yourself for my cock,” Tony said, not taking his eyes off Peter’s body.  He then took a step back and grabbed his own cock, stroking it slowly.  “Daddy wants to see you finger yourself.  Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Peter said quietly.

“Lick your fingers, get them all wet and then fuck yourself with them,” Tony ordered, still stroking his cock.  “And look into my eyes as you do it.”

Peter did as he was told.  He slowly licked his middle finger and his ring finger, staring up at Tony through dark eyelashes as he sucked.  He then brought his fingers down to his ass, carefully pushing his middle finger inside himself and gasping.  He pushed a little deeper till he was comfortable and then added his ring finger.  Tony loved watching Peter finger himself.  He didn’t allow him to do it very often, since Peter was never usually this good, but the boy had been on his best behaviour today.

“How does that feel, baby?” Tony asked, watching as Peter’s fingers moved in and out of his tight hole.

“So good,” Peter murmured, pushing his fingers deeper inside himself.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the cell.  “Mmm, wish it was you, Daddy.”

“Did I say you could stop looking at me?” Tony asked abruptly, making Peter’s eyes snap open in response.  He looked fearful.

“I- sorry, Daddy.  I… I got too… I’m sorry.”

Tony tutted and stepped back over to the bed, crouching down close to the floor.  “Sorry’s not good enough,” he said in a disappointed voice.  He reached for Peter’s hand, pulling his fingers out of his ass and leading those fingers up to Peter’s mouth.  Peter blinked down at him, almost as though he was fighting back tears for getting into trouble, but he opened his mouth dutifully, without being told what to do.  Tony shoved Peter’s fingers inside his mouth, and Peter sucked on them without hesitation.

“Does that taste good?” Tony asked.  Peter nodded, sucking some more.  “Hands out of your mouth.  When I ask you a question, I want an answer.  Not a nod.  _Does that taste good_?”

Peter took his fingers out of his mouth and made eye contact with Tony.  “Yes, Daddy.  It tastes so good.”

“Why does it taste good?” Tony asked.

Peter swallowed and spoke again.  “Because I love tasting my own ass.”

“Mmm,” Tony said with a smirk.  “Such a slut.  Bet you’d lick your own asshole if you could, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmhm,” Peter said quietly with a slight nod. 

“But do you know why Daddy made you stop tasting yourself?” Tony asked, running a finger up Peter’s inner thigh.

“Yes,” Peter gasped. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because my ass belongs to you.”

“Good boy,” Tony said softly, using his other hand to pull Peter’s whole body closer to the edge of the bed.  “Are you ready for my cock now, baby?”

“Yes please, Sir,” Peter said desperately, opening his legs even wider.  Tony stood up and grabbed one of Peter’s legs in each hand.  He positioned his cock in front of Peter’s hole and slowly pushed against the tight ring of muscle.

“I want to hear you moaning, okay?  I want to hear how good it feels to have me inside you.  Is that clear?” Tony said, pushing in a little deeper.

“I will,” Peter promised, biting down on his lower lip as Tony’s cock filled him up.

Tony took it slow, wanting to treat the boy well for his good behaviour.  He could hear Peter moan as he pushed deeper inside, and he stopped when he couldn’t go any further and he was completely inside him.

“Mmm, Daddy,” Peter groaned, clutching at the bedsheets.  “So deep, it feels so _good_.”

And that was enough to set Tony off.  He started moving inside Peter, pulling out almost all the way and then plunging back in, still holding Peter’s legs wide apart.  Peter was squirming beneath him, panting and moaning like crazy, while Tony picked up the pace.  The bed creaked loudly, banging against the walls with every thrust and that only made Tony want to fuck Peter harder.

“You just love being fucked like this, don’t you?”

“I do,” Peter said breathlessly.  “I do, so much.  Mmm, please fuck me harder.”

Tony couldn’t say no to that.  He thrust harder, slamming into Peter’s ass so hard that he wondered if the bed might break from the force. 

“Make yourself cum,” Tony commanded.  “Grab your cock and cum all over yourself.”

Peter grabbed his own cock and did as he was told.  It didn’t take long for the younger man to cum – a few strokes and he was there.  Tony was hitting his prostate with nearly every thrust, turning the boy beneath him into a shuddering wreck.  He came all over his stomach and his hand, breathing heavily and staring up at Tony with full-blown pupils.

The sight of Peter’s orgasm and the feeling of his ass clenching around Tony’s cock was enough to send Tony over the edge.  He came within seconds of Peter, holding onto his ankles hard, and pushing himself as far into Peter’s ass as he could get before releasing deep inside him.  He rode out his orgasm still inside Peter, and then when he was done he pulled out and smiled down at him.

“Open your mouth,” Tony said, and Peter obliged.   Tony wiped Peter’s cum off his stomach and onto his fingers, careful not to waste a drop.  “You’re gonna eat your cum for me.”

Peter nodded wordlessly, although Tony could see that even though he was agreeing, he wasn’t comfortable – like most of the things they did together.  He kept his mouth wide open as Tony put his fingers in his mouth.  Peter licked the cum off Tony’s fingers and swallowed, shuddering at the taste.

“You’re such a good boy for Daddy, aren’t you?” Tony murmured, brushing his thumb against Peter’s lips softly.

“I am,” Peter said.  “Thank you for making me feel good.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Tony purred, leaning in and kissing Peter’s forehead.  “That’s what I’m here for.  Now get some rest, you got fucked pretty hard and I don’t want my baby sore.”

“Yes, Sir,” Peter said, and Tony didn’t miss the sound of relief in his voice.  He watched as Peter got up and climbed into the top bunk, not bothering to get dressed.

Tony knew that Peter didn’t actually enjoy what they did together, but he couldn’t help himself.  He _needed_ Peter.  And Peter needed _Tony_ to survive in a place like this.  If Peter didn’t have Tony, the other prisoners would have a field day with him.  He probably wouldn’t leave this prison alive.

So Tony was protecting him, and Peter seemed to know that.  He’d grown accustomed to their situation, and while he probably didn’t like it much, he seemed grateful at least that Tony was taking care of him. 

As Peter cried himself to sleep that night like every other night, Tony sighed.  One day, Peter would enjoy it for real.  _One day_ , Peter would want Tony as much as Tony wanted him.  And Tony held out hope for that day.


	3. Day 487

It had to be some time in the early hours of the morning.  Tony couldn’t sleep at all.  He felt as though he could hear every breath, every snore, every bed creak throughout the entire cell block.  He didn’t make it easy for himself – he was contributing to the noise by tossing and turning, the bed squeaking irritatingly as he did so.  It didn’t help either, that it was freezing.  The thin blanket that they were provided with wasn’t enough to keep Tony even slightly warm.

He sighed, staring up at the top bunk.  He sensed that Peter was awake too.  There was movement up there, and usually the boy was still when he slept.  Tony decided that instead of trying to sleep, he might as well make do with some conversation.  That would pass the time, at least.

“You awake, Parker?” Tony asked, his voice quiet but clear.  He felt the bed move a little and then Peter spoke.

“Yes, you?” Peter asked.

Tony smiled.  “No, I’m fast asleep.”

There was a pause.  “Yeah, that was a stupid question for me to ask.  Sorry, Sir.”

Tony wondered if Peter could tell that he was being sarcastic.  The boy never seemed to understand when Tony was making a joke.  He was always so serious all the time, and sometimes Tony wished he’d joke around back.  A bit of harmless banter never hurt anyone.

“Are you cold?” Tony asked.

“A little bit,” Peter responded, and Tony could sense that he was nervous.  His voice had wobbled a little, and it was a lot higher than it’d been moments ago.

Tony wasn’t really sure why he’d asked if Peter was cold.  All he knew was that now that he was aware that Peter was a little bit cold, he needed to warm him up. 

“Come here,” Tony said, and although his voice sounded authoritative, it was also soft.  Even Tony was taken aback at how soft his voice had sounded – it was unlike him.  But there was something about Peter Parker… something that made him soft.  Something that made him want to be a better person.  Something… but Tony couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

Peter climbed out of the top bunk of the bed and stood in front of Tony, not much more than a silhouette in the darkness.  Tony reached out to take the younger man’s hand, and he heard a quiet gasp. 

“Come _here_ ,” Tony said again, pulling Peter closer to the bed by his hand.  Peter didn’t let go of Tony’s hand as he climbed into bed with him, but Tony could feel him shaking.

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter as they spooned, Peter facing towards the opposite side of the cell.  It felt good to be like this – pressed up against each other, sharing in each other’s warmth.  Tony exhaled, closing his eyes and allowing himself time to appreciate the man who was in his arms.

He still felt incredibly lucky that Peter Parker had walked into _his_ cell.  He hadn’t just found the sexiest, most obedient plaything for his own pleasure, but he’d found someone who he genuinely felt things for.  And while that fact scared the shit out of Tony, there wasn’t much to do in prison but constantly think about his feelings, and especially with Peter living right on top of him.

Tony could still feel Peter shaking, and he held onto him tighter, pressing his face against his hair.  Fuck, he smelt so good up close like this.  Usually when they fucked, Tony didn’t have much of a chance to pay attention to the small things like this.  Like the smell of Peter’s hair, or the way his chest moved steadily with every breath, or the way he seemed to emit warmth like it radiated off of him.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Tony murmured in Peter’s ear.  He felt Peter’s body freeze up at the question.

“N-nothing’s wrong, Sir,” Peter replied, almost monotonous.  Tony was still holding one of Peter’s hand.  He squeezed it gently and stroked his thumb against Peter’s fingers.

“I think you’re lying to me.”

“Why did you call me down here?” Peter asked quietly, sounding as though he was on the verge of tears.  “You already had me today.”

Tony didn’t speak straight away.  He was very much aware that Peter didn’t like having sex with him, but it stung a little to hear him speak of it as though it was just some chore.  “I called you down here to hold you,” Tony said.  “Is that a problem, Parker?”

“N-no.  Of course not.”  But Peter’s voice told another story entirely.  He clearly wanted to be up in the top bunk.  And Tony couldn’t really blame him – why would Peter want to be held by someone like _him_?  He wasn’t exactly the nicest man in the world, and he’d reduced Peter to a submissive, broken shadow of the boy he’d been when he’d arrived in the prison.

“Good,” Tony said, pressing closer to him.  They were lying there for a few minutes in silence.  Tony was content, loving having Peter there, cuddled up beside him.  He knew that Peter hadn’t relaxed since the moment he’d climbed in next to Tony.  His body was stiff, as though he was anticipating some sort of attack.  He seemed… _scared_. 

“Daddy, please fuck me,” Peter mumbled, voice shaking.  Tony hadn’t been expecting the request.  Peter _never_ asked to be fucked for a second time in one day.

“Why?” Tony asked, holding on tighter to the boy.

“ _Please_ ,” Peter said, sounding desperate.  If Tony hadn’t been so wrapped up in how good it felt to be cuddling him for the first time, he’d have ripped his clothes off then and there and given him exactly what he was asking for.  But Tony wasn’t going to fuck him – not in the middle of the night, where everyone would hear them.  Not when he had Peter in his arms, exactly where he’d wanted him for at least a year now. 

“I asked you _why_ you want me to fuck you,” Tony said.  “’Please’ isn’t an answer, is it?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.  I just need you inside me,” Peter said. 

And then it dawned on Tony.  He sighed and loosened his hold on Peter, feeling hurt.

“So that you can get back to your bed?” Tony asked, already knowing the answer.  Of course Peter was begging to be fucked so that he could get back to his own bed and away from Tony.  He cursed that idiotic part of himself that had actually thought Peter _wanted_ him.

“I-”

“-Don’t lie to me,” Tony warned.  “You know what happens when you lie to me.”

Peter shifted in Tony’s arms.  “Yes, I want to go back to my own bed.”  His voice sounded fearful.

“I don’t think so,” Tony replied, kissing Peter’s hair softly.  “You can stay here with me tonight, okay sweetheart?”

Tony felt Peter’s body sag at his words.  What was it – defeat?  Nevertheless, Tony wasn’t really happy.  How could he make Peter actually want to be with him?  He knew they’d gotten off to a rocky start, but it had been over a _year_ and surely Peter must be starting to develop _some_ sort of feelings towards him?  They fucked every day, feelings were inevitable.  Weren’t they?

“Okay,” Peter replied, voice cracking. 

Tony closed his eyes, suddenly feeling like maybe he wouldn’t struggle to sleep anymore.  Having Peter there with him was comforting.  He didn’t feel cold anymore. 

“I want to hold you like this every night,” Tony murmured tiredly into Peter’s hair, squeezing his body tighter.  “Would you like that, baby?”

“Yes, I would, Sir,” Peter replied quickly – _too_ quickly – which made Tony question how truthful he was being.

“I love you,” Tony whispered, surprising himself with the sudden confession. Peter seemed surprised too; Tony felt the boy tense up.  “Fuck,” Tony continued, laughing a little.  “I fucking _love_ you, Parker.”

He hadn’t realised that it was love until the words had left his mouth.  But now that he’d said it out loud, it was all so clear to him.  What else could it be other than love?  But he was fucked.  Peter couldn’t ever reciprocate his feelings… could he?

When Peter didn’t respond to Tony’s declaration, Tony spoke again.  “I need you to be completely honest with me, okay?  Don’t be scared to speak your mind.  I promise I won’t punish you.  Yes?”

“Yes, Sir,” Peter whispered.

“How do you feel about me?” Tony asked, and he hated how his heart raced in anticipation for Peter’s answer.  How had Peter turned him into this?  “I mean… could you ever love me?”

Peter was silent for a long time, and Tony wondered whether he’d maybe asked the question too quietly, or maybe Peter had fallen asleep…

The wait for Peter’s reply was a torturous one.  Tony _needed_ to know.  Peter was supposed to be his sub, his little slut, his toy.  But right now, Peter was in complete control.  It was like he had Tony’s heart in his hands, and Tony had never felt more vulnerable in his entire life.  He’d _never_ felt this way about someone before, and quite frankly, it terrified him.

“No, I couldn’t ever love you,” Peter finally replied, and it was cold.  It wasn’t Peter crushing Tony’s heart in the palm of his hand – it was like a sharp knife through the heart and it was _excruciating_.  “If you want the complete truth, here it is.  I _hate_ you, Tony.  I will _always_ hate you, and nothing will ever change that fact.” And that was the twisting of the knife.

Hate.  _Hate_.  The word rang relentlessly in Tony’s ears.  He knew he’d asked for the truth, but he didn’t like the truth.  The truth _hurt_ , and nobody got away with hurting Tony Stark.  Not without walking away with worse wounds, anyway.

“That’s okay,” Tony said through gritted teeth.  “It’s okay, sweetheart.  You’ll learn to love me.”

“I just told you I could never love you,” Peter replied irritably, and Tony wasn’t happy with the tone of Peter’s voice.  Tony needed to remind Peter that _he_ was in charge here, and that if Peter was told to do something, he was to _do_ as he’s told.

“Don’t talk back to me,” Tony said coldly.  “Maybe I wasn’t making myself clear?  You _will_ love me.”

“Sorry, I d-didn’t mean to make you mad, Sir,” Peter stammered.

“Tell me you love me,” Tony ordered.

“But-”

“-Anyone would think you _wanted_ to get punished,” Tony said.  “Do you not remember what happened to you the last time you were a bad boy?”

“ _Please_ , I’m sorry!” Peter said in desperation, turning around in Tony’s arms to face him.  “I’m sorry, Daddy.  Please don’t hurt me.”

“Mm, I’m tempted,” Tony murmured, glancing down at Peter’s pleading eyes through the darkness.  “You hurt my feelings, didn’t you?  You _deserve_ to get spanked like the naughty little slut that you are.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Peter whispered.  “I will do _anything._ Just please don’t punish me, Daddy.  I beg you.”

Tony smirked.  He remembered the last time Peter had been bad, just as well as he was sure Peter remembered.  It was a few months ago – Peter had gone to a C.O and tried to get himself transferred to another cell.  He’d tried to _leave_ Tony.  Luckily for Tony, the C.O hadn’t taken Peter seriously enough, and unluckily for Peter, he’d been unable to sit down for a week following Tony’s cruel punishment.  His skin was still scarred, and he’d been on his best behaviour ever since.

“How about this?  I’ll let you go back to your bed,” Tony said, planting a gentle kiss on Peter’s forehead.  “ _If_ you tell me you love me.”

Peter swallowed, looking utterly distraught.  Tony loved it.  It was one of his favourite looks on Peter. 

“Go on, baby,” Tony purred, his breath ghosting over Peter’s terrified face.  “Just tell me you love me and you can go back to your own bed.  Doesn’t that sound fair?”

“But, I-”

“-Or would you rather I spanked your pretty little ass again till you’re bleeding?”

Tony was sure he saw a tear roll down Peter’s cheek.  He didn’t know why the boy was always so damned emotional.  Peter scrunched his eyes up and exhaled.

“I- I… l-love you.”

Tony tutted and shook his head.  “That’s not good enough.  I need you to _look_ into my eyes and say it like you mean it.”

Peter opened his eyes again, and there was no doubt now that he was crying.  His teary eyes shimmered in the darkness, and Tony _wanted_ to stop him from crying but at the same time he wanted to hear Peter say those three words.  It was the conflict that haunted Tony every day.  Whether to make Peter happy, or whether to make himself happy.  And Tony was generally a selfish person, so he’d let Peter cry in order to hear the words.

“I love you,” Peter said, staring at Tony with a look so full of hatred that Tony almost laughed at the hypocrisy of it.

“Mmm,” Tony moaned, leaning in and kissing Peter’s lips, which tasted salty from his tears.  Was it weird that it turned Tony on?  It probably was, but Tony didn’t care.  He continued kissing the younger man, running his fingers through his hair and lightly tugging at his curls.

Peter didn’t kiss back; he was still.  When Tony pulled away, Peter was still staring at him with that cold glare.  His lips trembled as he tried to hold back the flood of tears that were threatening to escape.

“I’ll accept that,” Tony said.  “But next time, you have to _mean_ it.  And if you _dare_ look at me like that again… well, your eyes may be beautiful but don’t think I’d hesitate to cut them out.”

Peter blinked his tears out of his eyes and nodded.  “Y-yes, Sir.”

“Okay,” Tony whispered, leaning in again to kiss Peter’s forehead, and then leaning back to look at him.  “You can go back to your bunk now, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.”

“Good night, baby,” Tony said, yawning as Peter got out of the bed to climb back to his own bunk.

“Goodnight, Daddy.”


	4. Day 547

Today was the day that the prison got new inmates, although Tony couldn’t find any reason to care about the occasion anymore.  It used to be his favourite day – he used to stand and wait eagerly to see what new meat he could take under his wing, corrupt and break – but now it was just another day on the endless calendar of his life-sentence. He had Peter now, and ever since the boy had stepped foot in the penitentiary, Tony couldn’t care _less_ about the new meat.  All he cared about was Peter.  It was becoming a bit of an obsession, really, loving Peter. 

So Tony walked into the canteen on the afternoon of the day of the new arrivals, rolling his eyes at the way the canteen was alive with excitement rather than the usual monotonous routine.  All he wanted was to find Peter and eat his food in peace, without having to talk to any cocky new prisoners who thought they’d make a reputation for themselves whilst serving time.

He walked past a couple of new guys who were trying to act tough to a prisoner that Tony knew would easily beat the shit out of them on their best days.  He walked past a young kid who didn’t look old enough to be allowed into an adult prison.  He was chatting animatedly to a crowd about how he’d mugged and raped a woman, and every second word was a swear word.  Tony shook his head as he walked past, heading to the front of the canteen to get his food.

After a pile of mush was slapped onto his tray, Tony turned to scan the room for his boy.  _Weird_ , he thought.  Peter wasn’t at their usual table.  He glanced around the room, trying to find him. 

Tony almost dropped his tray when he finally spotted Peter, standing in the corner, leant against a wall and chatting to one of the new prisoners.  Peter was _smiling_.  Tony had never seen the boy smile in the year and a half he’d known him, and _fuck,_ it was beautiful but Tony had also never felt anger bubble up so intensely like this in his life.  Why did Peter not smile for _him_?  Was he not _good_ to him? 

Tony’s jaw was clenched so tightly that he was sure his teeth would crack under the pressure.  He slammed his tray down on the nearest table, startling the people sitting there.  He didn’t care – he saw red.  This new prisoner was talking to _his_ boy, and this was going to stop _now_.

He was at the other side of the canteen quicker than ever, rounding on Peter and striking him hard across the cheek.  Peter gasped in both pain and surprise, not having noticed Tony until now.  He collapsed against the wall, clutching at his cheek and trembling.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” Tony asked, eyes burning into Peter, the younger boy seeming to shrink under his intense gaze.

“I-I-”

“-I’ll just… go,” the other prisoner mumbled, shuffling back to try to make a quick escape.  Tony turned his attention to him, grabbing him by the front of his uniform tightly.

“You _don’t_ talk to him, you hear me?” Tony spat.  He stared at the other man’s face, a feeling of sheer disgust building up within him.  He was young, around Peter’s age.  He was also handsome – too handsome for Tony’s liking.  If Peter hadn’t existed, Tony was sure he’d have found the kid alluring, but now all Tony felt was that he wanted to hurt him for daring to speak to _his_ Peter.

“I wasn’t-”

“-If I catch you near him again, I’ll fucking kill you,” Tony hissed.  The boy nodded, looking terrified.  Tony released him and watched as he hurried off, stumbling as he went.  Tony waited a second before turning back to face Peter furiously.

“I didn’t mean to,” Peter said quickly, tears glistening in his _oh so gorgeous_ brown eyes.  “Please, Sir.  Don’t hurt me.  I’m so so sorry.”

Tony stepped closer to him, backing him into a corner.  “Why don’t you smile at me like that?” Tony murmured in a low whisper.  “Hm?”

“I’m sorry-”

“-Stop apologising.  I want an _answer_.”

Peter glanced over Tony’s shoulder as if he were silently begging for someone to help him, but nobody would help. 

“Are you deaf?”

Tony watched as Peter gave him the biggest, most unnatural smile he could muster.  “I was only being polite to him,” Peter said carefully.  “You’re the… the one I want.  I belong to _you_ , Sir.  I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

Tony nodded.  “You _do_ belong to me.  You’ll _always_ belong to me, won’t you?”

“I will,” Peter breathed, staring up at Tony with big eyes.  Tony hummed his approval and leaned even closer to the boy, wrapping a hand around Peter’s waist possessively. 

“But you must know what a bad boy you’ve been,” Tony said, gripping him tighter, ignoring the way Peter’s body shook in trepidation. 

“I- I was only talking,” Peter said, voice shaking.  “Nothing happened.  I wasn’t thinking about anything inappropriate.  I haven’t been _bad_ … please don’t hurt me.  I’m begging you.”

Tony tutted and planted a gentle kiss on Peter’s forehead.  “I am the only person you’re _allowed_ to talk to.”

Peter blinked tears out of his eyes, and Tony loved the way he fell apart so easily at just his words.  He had so much control over Peter, and it turned Tony on more than anything.  He let Peter go and took his hand, starting to walk towards the door of the canteen.  “Come on, baby.  Daddy needs to teach you how to be a good boy.”

* * *

 

By the time they reached their cell, Peter was sobbing uncontrollably.  Tony couldn’t find it in himself to care.  He was hungry and he was angry, and no amount of crying from Peter would change Tony’s mind about what was going to happen next.  They arrived at the cell door and Tony practically threw Peter into the room.  Peter landed on the floor, whacking his head against the side of the sink, not even bothering to get up.

 _Good_ , Tony thought.  _He’s being good_.

Tony slammed the cell door shut and dropped the sheet.

“You know the drill,” Tony said.

Peter was struggling to get up from the floor, but Tony was impatient. 

“I don’t have all day,” he growled.  “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and give me what I want, you slut.”

The younger boy flinched at Tony’s words and scrambled closer to him, staring up with tear-stained eyes.  “Sorry, Mr Stark.  I’m- I hit my head, I was- I’m sorry.”

“Do you think I give a shit if you hurt your head?” Tony asked, grabbing him roughly, forcing him out of his clothes and shoving him face-first down onto the bed.  “You deserve much worse than that, and you’re gonna _get_ worse.”

“ _Please_ , Mr Stark, I won’t do it again, I _promise_ ,” Peter sobbed, face pressed against the mattress.

Tony watched Peter beg for a minute, and then without warning, he raised his hand and brought it down forcefully against Peter’s ass, making Peter cry out in pain.

“How do you think it made _me_ feel, Parker?  You’re a disgusting little slut, talking to other men.  So you’ll take this punishment without so much as a whimper.  You got me?”

Peter nodded into the bedsheets, his lips pressed tightly together in an attempt to not make any sound as Tony struck him again. 

“You’re _mine_.”

Tony pulled his arm back behind him and then used all of his strength to smack his hand hard against Peter’s now-red skin.  Peter’s whole body shook as he took the spanking, and Tony had to admit he was impressed with the lack of sound he was making.  Tony had trained him well.

“That boy you were talking to-”

Another smack.

“-He’s on my radar-”

Smack.  Peter shuddered and clutched the sheets.

“-You know what’s gonna happen to him, don’t you?”

Smack. 

Tony stared down at the mess of a boy beneath him and frowned.  “I’m talking to you, you _answer_ me when I talk to you, slut,”  He leaned down and grabbed Peter’s hair, pulling his head back and making him gasp.

“I- I’m- you’re going to do to him what you do to me?” Peter breathed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Tony shoved Peter's head back down roughly and hit him again hard, making Peter cry out this time.

“I’m not going to do to him what I do to you,” Tony murmured.  “I _love_ you, baby.  I _love_ you, and this is what I do to _you_.  He’s going to get a lot worse.”

Tony struck him again, smirking as he watched Peter bite down on the pillow to stop himself from making too much sound. 

“Does it hurt when Daddy smacks you?” Tony asked.

“Mmhmm,” Peter mumbled against the pillow.

“Good,” Tony said, voice gentle despite his violent actions.  “You’re going to take this till you bleed.  And then I’ll let you rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter said in barely a whisper. 

“Not even a ‘thank you’?  I could go on a for a _lot_ longer.  Is that what you want?” Tony asked, hitting him again, harder.

“Th-thank you, Daddy,” Peter gasped. 

“Thank you for what?”

Peter winced as Tony ran his hand across his sore skin and then gave him another harsh slap.  “For… for letting me rest after I… I was bad.”

Tony smiled.  “That’s my good boy.  You’re welcome.  I always like to make you happy.”

Peter made a strangled sound against the bed, and Tony hit him again.  And again. 

“Tell me how you feel about me,” Tony murmured softly.

“L-Love you,” Peter whispered, still crying.  “I love you.”

“Fuck,” Tony said, smacking him again and smirking in satisfaction at how he’d made Peter bleed.  “You’re bleeding.”

Peter seemed to exhale in relief at this.  Tony stepped back and sighed.  “You can rest now,” he said.  “I have things to do.  I’ll be back later.”

“Yes,” Peter replied quietly, voice trembling still.  Tony reached under the mattress to pull out the blade he kept hidden for emergencies.  Peter didn’t know about the blade, and he didn’t see Tony reach for it either – he was still lying on the bed recovering from his punishment.

Tony slipped the blade under his sleeve and left the cell.  He walked around the cellblock for a while, looking for the kid from earlier.  He had to be around here somewhere…

Tony wasn’t even sure of the guy’s name, which made it a lot harder to find him.  But after about twenty minutes of searching, Tony found the boy sitting in an empty cell.  _Perfect_ , he thought.  Not only was he alone but he was sharing a cell with a prisoner Tony didn’t get on with.  He’d kill two birds with one stone here.

He made sure nobody was watching him as he slipped into the cell quietly.  The kid looked up at Tony as he entered, and sudden recognition spread across his fearful face.

“Shh,” Tony whispered, smiling down at him.  “I’m only here to talk to you.”

He let the blade slip down his sleeve.  He could feel it, sharp and cold against his palm, begging to be used on someone.  And Tony would oblige. 

“I’m so sorry about earlier,” the boy started, but Tony only shook his head, silencing him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly, stepping closer.  “You won’t do it again.  But I have to confess, I'm here to do more than talk.”

Before the boy could respond, Tony had swiftly moved the knife up to stab him in the abdomen.  Once, twice, again and again.  He was careful to stay far enough away that he wouldn’t get any blood on him, but he had a hand over the boy’s mouth to stop people hearing what was going on.

“Shh, shhh,” Tony mumbled, cocking his head to the side and frowning.  “It’ll all be over soon.  You'll never talk to my boy again.”

The kid struggled, trying to get away, but Tony was a lot stronger.  Tony held him in place, staring intently into his panicked eyes until at last, his body became slack and eyes become lifeless.  When Tony was sure he was dead, he removed his hand from the kid's mouth and cleaned off the knife, slipping it inside the nearest pillowcase.

Tony turned and headed back to his own cell, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.  Suddenly everything felt okay again, _normal_.  And he couldn’t be happier.


	5. Day 548

Lockdown.  It wasn’t very often that it happened, but when it did happen it was always because of something very serious.  They’d been in lockdown for three hours now, and Tony acted just as clueless and curious as every other prisoner in the penitentiary.  It’s not like he knew about a man being murdered, it’s not like _he_ was the one who did it… ha ha...

He paced back and forth in his cell, occasionally glancing out through the bars to see what was going on.  There was a lot of commotion – prisoners shouting, C.O’s yelling back.  Peter was sitting cross-legged on the top bunk, peering curiously through the bars at what was going on.  He didn’t look traumatised, and that was an indicator to Tony that he hadn’t figured out what had happened just yet.

“What do you think happened?” Tony asked casually, leaning back against the wall and glancing up at Peter.

Peter shrugged, not looking at Tony.  “Probably a fight or something.”

“Nah,” Tony said, stepping closer to the bed and resting his arms on the top bunk, still peering up at Peter.  “I’ve been here a long time.  This sort of thing doesn’t happen for just a _fight_.”

Peter turned his head to meet Tony’s gaze and instinctively shuffled back as far away as he could get.  “Then what?” he asked guardedly.

“Someone committed suicide?” Tony said, smirking at Peter’s alarmed expression.  “Or someone got himself killed.  For pissing someone else off.”

“I- I doubt that… that’s probably not what’s happened,” Peter said quietly, looking down at his hands. 

“Don’t be sad, baby,” Tony cooed, reaching up to run his fingers through Peter’s hair, making the younger boy flinch at his touch.  “It’s not like you lost anything, even if someone _did_ die.  You don’t _have_ friends.  Just me.  You’ve got me.”

Tony felt his cock twitch at the way Peter nodded and looked up at him with frightened brown eyes.  “Yes, Daddy.  I’ve got you.”

“Good boy.”

* * *

It wasn’t until the next morning that it was finally revealed what had happened, and what had caused the prison to go into lockdown.  The warden had come down to the cellblock and made an announcement at 10am, just after breakfast when everyone was in their cells.  The story was that one of the new prisoners was brutally murdered, stabbed several times with a knife, causing him to bleed out.  It had been his cell mate who’d murdered him, a mere drug-dealer who had only been facing five more years in prison, now sentenced to at least another twenty years.  He’d be spending his time in solitary indefinitely.

Tony was pleased with the outcome.  There was a tense atmosphere around the cellblock, and it was all his doing.  He’d spent most of the morning with a proud smirk on his face, getting on with his own things.  He spent a lot of his time in prison coming up with ideas for inventions for when he finally got out – he’d been an engineer before prison and he intended to continue his work when he got out.  He’d already come up with a few ground-breaking ideas, but nothing he could actually put to use at the moment.  He had a notebook in which he wrote his ideas down.  He’d spent the better part of the morning brain-storming before he heard a violent sob coming from the bed, making him turn to face his cellmate.

Peter was lying in his bed still – the boy spent most of his time in bed, probably too afraid of Tony to even dream of doing something that might anger him.  He had his blanket pulled over himself and he was curled up, his whole body shaking with silent sobs that he’d managed to keep under control until the one that had alerted Tony to his crying.

Tony stared up at him, frowning.  His heart ached.  He hated seeing Peter in so much pain, but worse so that Peter hadn’t even reached out to him for comfort.  That was something Tony needed to work on – making Peter _need_ him when he was upset.  He’d add that to his to-do list, but for now, he needed to make sure his baby was okay.

He closed his notebook, getting up and walking over to the bed.  He placed a hand on Peter’s back over the blankets, and he felt Peter tense up.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Tony asked softly.  He wanted to make it all better, he really did. 

“N-Nothing, I- I just had a bad dream,” Peter mumbled, his voice muffled through the blanket.

So Peter was _lying_ to him now?  Tony gritted his teeth and tried not to let it get to him.  The boy was upset – the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse, although he’d definitely have to deal with this lying thing later, in a way that Peter wouldn’t enjoy at _all_.

Tony removed his hand from Peter’s back and then made his way up the ladder to the top bunk.  It was the first time he’d been up here.  The bed creaked a lot more up on the top bunk, he noticed.  He could make use of that, as noisy sex was one of his many kinks.

He climbed up so that he was lying next to Peter, wrapping his arms around the crying boy.  Peter seemed uncomfortable, more uncomfortable than usual.  However, he allowed Tony to wrap his arms around him, probably to avoid another spanking like the one he’d been given yesterday.

Tony leaned closer, his mouth pressed against Peter’s ear.  “Shhh,” he breathed, leaning down to trail gentle kisses against Peter’s jaw and neck.  “Tell Daddy what’s _really_ wrong.”

He felt Peter swallow and his thin body shook with, what… fear?  Nerves?  The silence lasted what felt like an eternity to Tony, and he was almost at the point of expecting Peter to not speak at all.  But Peter spoke, and his trembling voice was full of accusations and fear.  “Y-you… you killed… you k-killed that boy.”

Tony froze for a second, and then a smirk broke out on his face.  He knew Peter could feel his smirk against his neck.  He felt the boy try to move away, but his attempt was feeble. 

“That’s a very serious accusation, Mr Parker,” Tony said, his voice teasing and playful.  “You just accused me of _murder_.”

“You _are_ a murderer,” Peter whispered back, sounding utterly terrified, but at the same time fiercely confident in his allegations.

Tony moaned softly against Peter’s neck, exhaling into his pale skin.  He felt Peter shudder, and it only made Tony press his body closer.  “I am,” he agreed in a low murmur.  “I’m a murderer.  Does that upset you, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes.  You killed him, didn’t you?”

Tony found it oddly alluring the way Peter was confronting him like this.  He used his right hand to slide slowly down Peter’s side and rest against his crotch.  He heard the younger boy gasp.

“I killed him,” Tony said in barely a whisper, his breath hot against Peter’s ear.  He slipped his hands beneath Peter’s clothes, grabbing his cock firmly and jerking him off slowly.  “You like that, don’t you, baby?”

Peter whimpered, and Tony could see fresh tears in the corner of his eyes. 

“I didn’t hear you,” Tony prompted, stroking him faster.

“No, I-” Peter started, trying to get away from Tony.  “I- _No_.  NO.”  He reached down and forced Tony’s hand out of his boxers, sitting up and breaking away from his hold.  “No, you’re a murderer and I _hate_ you!”

Tony fought the urge to slap Peter.  The boy needed to be taught a lesson, but right now he had to make sure Peter wouldn’t tell anyone.

“You hate me now, huh?” Tony asked.  Peter nodded, blinking tears out of his eyes and climbing over Tony to get off the bed.  Tony sighed and followed him, wishing that for once Peter _wouldn’t_ resist.  He wanted to _love_ him, not hurt him.  But Peter made it so hard sometimes. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tony questioned calmly, following Peter towards the door of the cell. 

“I’m going to tell the guards about you,” Peter said, sounding a lot less confident than Tony was sure he wanted to sound.

“Oh, you are, are you?”

“I am.  I will.  That boy didn’t deserve to _die_ ,” Peter said, reaching his arms through the bars to wave.  “HEY, GUARDS! SOMEONE HELP! I-”

Tony grabbed him, pulling him back violently and throwing him into the corner of the cell. “You fucking _dare-_ ”

“I _HATE_ YOU!” Peter cried, looking distraught.  He got up and shoved Tony with all the force he had.  “I hate you, I hate you, I want you _dead_!”

Tony shrugged.  “Oddly, that turns me on.  But you gotta shut up now, baby.  You tell a _soul_ that I killed that kid, and you’ll regret it.”

Peter extended his arm backwards, in an obvious attempt to get ready to hit Tony, but Tony grabbed his arm mid-swing.  He gripped at Peter’s arm hard, watching his face as he struggled against Tony’s grasp.

“You’re a monster,” Peter spat, staring at Tony coldly.

“You’re brave today,” Tony commented, licking his lips.  He was getting achingly hard, and he wanted nothing more than to bend Peter over and fuck him so hard he’d forget his own name.  But he couldn’t.  Not right now.

“I’m just… sick of you,” Peter replied.  “I’m not _yours_.  You can’t just… just kill… you… I-” Peter didn’t seem to be able to continue his sentence as he broke down into a flood of tears, no longer struggling against Tony.

“You _are_ mine,” Tony said, wanting to comfort the crying boy in front of him, but also feeling the anger start to rise in him.  He had Peter’s wrist tight in his grasp, and with one quick movement he could easily break it.  That’d teach him a lesson…

And so he did it.  With a rough twist, he heard a loud _crack_ and then Peter was crying out in agony, looking deliciously vulnerable and oh-so fuckable in his pain.  Peter was trying to fall to his knees, but Tony wouldn’t allow it.  He still gripped Peter, holding him in place.

“P-please _stop_ ,” Peter begged, breathing heavily and wincing at the pain.  “If you… you said… I thought you _loved_ me! How can you do this to someone you love?”

Tony growled, shoving Peter hard against the wall and releasing his broken wrist.  Peter grabbed the injured wrist with his other hand and stared up at Tony, his body hunched as though trying to protect himself from further assault.  “I thought _you_ said you loved _me_ ,” Tony said, slamming his hand against the wall, inches away from Peter’s head.  “Yet here you are telling me how much you hate my guts!”

“You _force_ me to say those things!” Peter cried.  “How could I _ever_ love someone like you?”

“You’re putting me in a very difficult situation here, baby,” Tony said, trying to keep his voice calm.  “But let me tell you how it’s going to go.  First, do you know what got me in prison in the first place?”

Peter blinked, gritting his teeth.  “You murdered someone.”

“Yeah, I did,” Tony said, smiling sweetly.  “You know who?  And why?”

“I don’t-”

“-My ex-boyfriend,” Tony continued as though Peter hadn’t spoken.  “God, Peter, he was the love of my life.  He was perfect, you know?  He was _everything_ to me.  He gave my life meaning, and he made me _happy_.  Truly, truly happy.  I couldn’t imagine my life without him.  But then I came home early one day to surprise him, and I found him with someone else.  Fuck, I was mad.  I was _pissed_.  _My_ man, my _everything_ , fucking someone else?  I wouldn’t stand for it.  So I hunted down the bastard who stole the love of my life, and I beat the shit out of him.  Must’ve punched him at least fifty times.  My knuckles still haven’t healed - I'm sure you've seen the scars.  But he was dead, and that was all that mattered.”

Peter was staring up at Tony now, visibly shaking.  Tony loved that effect he had on him.

“I returned home that night, pretty shaken.  I’d _killed_ someone.  That was… not me.  But I decided I wouldn’t stop there.  My ex-boyfriend – fucking _jerk_ that he was – I got home and he was there _apologising_.  Trying to make things right.  Like things could go back to normal after he’d ripped my heart out?” Tony stopped, snorting at the memory.  “So I grabbed the knife from the drawer in the kitchen and stabbed him in the heart.  Seven times.  He _deserved_ more than that, but he was dead before I could twist the knife.  He got off easy.”

“I- I… Mr Stark, I won’t-”

“-Shut _up_ ,” Tony said dangerously, silencing Peter in a second.  “I’m not finished.” He sighed and stared down at Peter with pain-filled eyes – he hated talking about his past but at this point it was necessary.  “Sweetheart, I love you, and I will _always_ love you.  But you’re breaking my heart here, and if you continue like this… well, I’ll have no option but to…”

“K-kill me?” Peter stammered.

“Yes.  Kill you.”

“You told me you wouldn’t kill me,” Peter protested, sounding panicked and desperate.  “On the first day I got here, you _said_.”

“Do you think I _want_ to?” Tony replied, gritting his teeth and leaning his face closer to Peter.  “ _All_ you have to do is love me back!  Or I'll be forced to kill you, and then I'll be guaranteed to have you with me forever.  God, Peter, just _love_ me.  Is that too much to ask?”

“You can’t _force_ someone to love you, I… I’m sorry, I can’t… it’s… you’re just…” Peter sighed and looked down.  “You just can’t force someone to love you.”

“Wrong,” Tony growled.  “I’m forcing _you_.  You won’t tell anyone about what I did to that kid you befriended, and you’ll love me back or you’ll die, and trust me when I say I’m not fucking around with you.  I mean what I say.  I’ll make it as slow and painful as you can imagine.  Hell, I’m already in here for a life-sentence, I have no problems whiny sluts like _you_!  Do you understand me?”

Peter nodded quickly, eyes wide in terror.

“Use your words, Peter,” Tony said angrily.  “ _Do you understand me_?”

“I- I understand, Daddy,” Peter whispered.

“You want Daddy to kill you?” Tony asked.

“No,” Peter muttered, wincing and holding onto his injured wrist tighter.

“Good,” Tony said, voice softer than before.  He leaned in to kiss Peter, smiling at how Peter’s lips parted as Tony’s touched his.  Tony let his tongue slip into Peter’s mouth, and he brought his hands up to wrap around Peter, pulling them closer together. 

When they broke apart, Tony lifted Peter’s wrist and examined it with concern in his eyes.

“Does it hurt, love?” Tony asked.

“Yes.”

“We’ll get you to the infirmary, okay?  We’ll say you fell from the top bunk because you’re a clumsy, stupid little slut, aren’t you?”

Peter nodded wordlessly, bottom lip wobbling.  “Aw, baby,” Tony said quietly, running a thumb over Peter’s lips.  “Don’t cry, okay?  Daddy’s gonna make sure you get taken care of.”

“Yes.”

“But once you’re taken care of, I still need to punish you,” Tony warned, trying not to smile at how Peter’s expression changed from exhausted to scared in a second.  “You defied me today, and you _lied_ to me.  You’ve been such a bad boy, haven’t you?  Such a bad _bad_ boy.”

“I- yes.  I’ve been bad,” Peter mumbled. 

“What do you say to Daddy?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, not looking at Tony.

“What are you sorry for?” Tony asked, tilting the younger boy’s chin up, forcing him to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Peter said in a hurried whisper.  “I’m sorry for lying and defying you, and I’m sorry that I said I hate you.”

“Mmm, and what are you?”

Peter exhaled.  “I’m yours,” he breathed.  “Always.”

“Good,” Tony hummed, smiling.  “Very _very_ good.  Now let’s get you to the infirmary, alright?”

“Okay,” Peter replied weakly, letting Tony lead him towards the door of the cell. 

“And once you’re all better, I’m going to fuck you harder than I’ve ever fucked you before.  Is that okay with you, baby?”

Peter sniffled, wiping a tear away with his sleeve.  “Y-yes.  Yes.  Anything for you, Daddy.”

“That’s my boy.”


	6. Day 739

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you all SO much for all the comments and kudos for this story. This is my first time writing Starker and its super dark, but I'm having so much fun with it and that's mainly because of all of you awesome people so thank you!!
> 
> Also, this chapter is pretty much pure smut. Be warned lol.

It was a particularly hot day, and the air conditioning seemed to be malfunctioning.  Most of the prisoners had been outside in the courtyard for the day – the warden had allowed it due to the conditions.  But it was evening now, and Tony returned to his cell, fanning himself with his hand and saying goodbye to some of his friends.

When he entered the cell, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Peter, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor writing in a notebook with such a deliciously focused expression on his face.  But what really made Tony stop was the fact that Peter was shirtless.  Tony had never seen Peter shirtless in the cell without having to force his clothes off.  He was instantly hard, and he didn’t even try to hide it.

Tony slid the cell door shut with a loud _bang_ , making Peter jump.  Peter snapped his notebook shut quickly in response.

“What’re you writing?” Tony asked as he dropped the sheet, keeping his distance, but eyeing the boy hungrily.

“Nothing that would interest you,” Peter replied, pursing his lips.

“A story? A journal? Come on.  Are you writing about me? Your dashing prison boyfriend?” Tony smirked.

Peter stared up at Tony, looking unamused.  “I wouldn’t call you dashing,” Peter said after a minute.  “Or my boyfriend.”

“Ouch,” Tony said.  “Then what _would_ you call me?”

Peter looked as though he was struggling to decide between saying two different things, but he finally sighed.  “I’d call you my Daddy.”

“Mm, what would you _really_ call me?” Tony asked.  “I won’t be mad.”

“You always say that and when I tell you the truth, you get mad,” Peter said quietly.

Tony slowly stepped closer to Peter, getting so close that his crotch was mere inches away from Peter’s flushed face.  Tony placed a finger under Peter’s chin, tilting his head up so that they were looking at each other.

“I won’t get mad,” Tony murmured.  “What _am_ I to you?”

Peter sighed, blinking.  “You’re my cellmate.”

“You can do better than that.”

“My rapist,” Peter whispered, his voice breaking slightly.  He seemed as though he wanted to look away from Tony’s face, but Tony was holding his head in place.  There was no room for movement.

“Your rapist, huh?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow, cock getting impossibly harder.  “What are you insinuating?”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat.  “That you r-rape me.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony said softly.  “When have I _ever_ raped you?”

Peter blinked a tear out of his eyes and Tony smiled at the way he felt Peter’s lips wobble before he spoke.  “Every d-day.  Every miserable day in this p-place.”

“Sweetheart, that hurts my feelings.  That’s not rape, baby.  You enjoy every second of it, don’t you?” Tony asked.

“I-”

“- _Don’t_ you?” Tony repeated, his tone cold and warning.

“I do.  I enjoy it so much, Daddy,” Peter said quickly.  “I’m so sorry for lying to you.”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Tony said, caressing his cheek with a gentle touch.  “But if you _insist_ I’m a rapist, then…”

Before Peter could react to Tony’s words, Tony was already unzipping his pants and pulling his hard cock out.  He forcefully pushed Peter’s mouth down onto his cock, making him gag violently at the sudden intrusion.

“God, sounds so good when you choke on me,” Tony groaned, pushing his cock further into Peter’s mouth.  Peter’s hands had come up to press against Tony’s hips for some sort of support or control, but Tony was stronger and Peter didn’t _really_ have any control at all.  If Tony wanted him to gag, he’d gag.

And Tony _did_ want that. 

After holding Peter’s head in place for a minute or so with his cock deep down his throat, Tony finally pulled out and watched hungrily as Peter gasped for breath, clutching at his throat.  His eyes were streaming and his lips were red and swollen.  He looked _done_ , but Tony really wasn’t done with him.

“You like that, baby, don’t you?” Tony asked, ruffling Peter’s hair playfully.

“Y-yes, I love it,” Peter said in a hoarse whisper, so unlike his normal sweet voice.

“Tell me _exactly_ what you like.”

“I love choking on Daddy’s cock,” Peter said, staring up with his teary eyes. 

“Mmm, okay,” Tony said, shoving his cock back into Peter’s mouth and thrusting deep.  Peter’s hands were back up at Tony’s hips, trying to push him back while he made the dirtiest sounds as Tony’s dick hit the back of his throat.

When Tony finally let Peter breathe again, Peter spoke.  “I thought you were raping me?”

“I am.”

“But I told you I _love_ choking on your cock,” Peter said.  “If I love it then it’s not rape, is it?”

Tony only smirked.  “Yes, you said you love choking on me, but I know you’re a naughty little _liar_.”

The sheer look of hopelessness on Peter’s face only turned Tony on more. 

“Suck Daddy’s dick,” Tony ordered.  “And stare up at me.  The whole time.  If I catch you looking away even once, you won’t know what’s hit you.”

Peter shifted onto his knees and took the full length of Tony’s cock in his mouth, almost immediately.  He stared up at Tony, eyes wide and _fuck_ , Tony thought, _so hot_.

“Good boy,” Tony murmured, throwing his head back at the feeling.  He’d really trained his boy well – he was an expert now.  If he had a resume, Tony was sure Peter would have cock-sucking at the very top.

He glanced back down at Peter, and then frowned when he realised Peter glancing away for a second.

Tony pulled out, gritting his teeth, disappointment clear on his face.  “Not such a good boy, actually.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry! It was an accident! I promise I won’t look away again,” Peter said, his voice taking on a desperate tone.  He leaned closer and took Tony’s cock in his mouth again, bobbing his head up and down the shaft quickly, keeping his eyes locked on Tony’s.

“You desperate little slut,” Tony spat, shoving Peter back against the wall.  “You blew your chance.  I told you – you won’t know what’s hit you.  Get _up_.”

“But-”

“UP.” Tony’s voice was cold, domineering.  Peter would have been a fool to not follow his orders.  Peter was standing up, legs shaky.

“Wh-what will you do to me, Daddy?” Peter asked.

Tony grabbed his arm hard and tossed him violently against the door of the cell.  Peter managed to throw his hands out in front of him to catch the bars through the sheet to stop himself from hitting his face on the metal.

“Yeah, stay like that,” Tony commanded, grabbing Peter’s clothes and pulling them off effortlessly.  He heard a scared whimper come from Peter’s mouth, but it didn’t bother him.  He had his boy naked, ready to be fucked.

“Now, here’s what I want you to do,” Tony said, leaning forwards, his cock pressing against Peter’s ass.  He let his breath ghost over Peter’s ear and neck, smiling at the way it made the younger boy shudder.  “I want you to pull the sheet off the door,” Tony whispered.

“Wha- what?  Sir, everyone will see us!”

“That’s what you get for not doing as you’re told,” Tony said calmly, pressing himself closer against Peter.

“Please, Daddy, it’s… it’s… please just don’t make me-”

“Can you do as you’re told?  I’m going to fuck you in full view of everyone and there’s nothing you can do about it, now _pull the sheet off_ ,” Tony said.

Tony watched as Peter’s shaking hand went up to grasp the sheet.  He seemed to hesitate a moment, before a harsh thrust from Tony made him pull the sheet off the door, exposing the two of them.

The view into their cell was visible to at least twenty-four people, not to mention those who happened to be walking past the cell door.  And there was Peter, completely naked, pressed right up against the bars with Tony against him.  Tony covered Peter’s hands, grasping at the bars and locking Peter’s hands in place.

“You’re gonna get fucked now,” Tony muttered, positioning his cock against Peter’s ass hole.  He heard a loud wolf-whistle from somewhere opposite, and smirked, glad people were watching.  He _wanted_ Peter to be humiliated.  He _wanted_ Peter to feel ashamed, disgusting.  Nothing turned him on more.

Tony slowly pushed inside Peter, and he was deliciously tight, as always.  He could hear Peter gasping and he felt the boy wince at the pain.  It was to be expected. 

“Daddy’s all the way inside you now, Peter,” Tony said softly, thrusting to prove his point.  Peter’s head fell forwards against the bars and Tony loved the way people were watching from the other side of the cellblock.  He’d never done something like this – had sex in front of people – and quite frankly, he was hornier than ever.

Giving his boy only a few seconds to adjust, Tony started moving, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back inside, balls deep.

Peter was making the sweetest sounds, and Tony wished he’d moan louder.  He wanted _everyone_ to hear so that even if they hadn’t been aware of what was going on, they’d look up and see.

“Louder, baby,” Tony said.  “Moan loud enough for everyone to enjoy the show.”

“Please, Daddy,” Peter whispered.  Tony could see how red his face was – Peter was _embarrassed_. 

“Are you embarrassed?” Tony asked, amused.

“Y-yes.  Please can we put the sheet back up?” Peter pleaded, wincing at a particularly hard thrust.

“No, baby.  Daddy’s gonna fuck you harder if you don’t moan louder for everyone to hear.”

And so Peter did as he was told, moaning loud and catching the attention of a few more prisoners who hadn’t seen them before.  Tony could hear some of the dirty things they were yelling, mostly derogatory things aimed at Peter, and Tony knew Peter could hear it too.

 _“Filthy whore!_ ”

“ _Cock-loving faggot!_ ”

“ _Horny little slut!”_

Tony could hear Peter crying.  “That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Tony said, thrusting into him faster now and grabbing his throat and making Peter choke.

“Yes,” he managed to say, moving a hand to try to pry Tony’s hand away.  Tony let him, but took the opportunity to slam harder into Peter, forcing his face against the bars now that his hand was no longer supporting him.

“You _love_ showing everyone what a disgusting, horny slut you are,” Tony growled, pushing Peter’s head harder against the bars.  “Don’t you?”

“I-”

“-Say something dirty,” Tony smirked.  “Let them all hear it.”

“Please stop it,” Peter begged between loud moans.

“That’s not very dirty,” Tony said.  “Why don’t you tell everyone how much you want Daddy to fuck you harder?”

Peter didn’t respond with words, but Tony could hear him crying and it was beginning to get infuriating.  Why did his boy never _listen_ to him? 

“Sweetheart, if you tell everyone how much you want it, then I’ll stop, okay?”

“Y-You promise?” Peter whispered.  His face was still redder than ever, and his knuckles were white from holding the bars so tightly.  His legs looked as though they’d give way any second.

“Oh, I promise, baby.”

Peter nodded against the bar.  Tony fucked him harder, harder, he was so close…

But he wouldn’t let himself finish until he heard Peter yelling those words.  As Peter opened his mouth to speak, Tony stopped him.

“- _Look_ at them while you say it,” he ordered.  “I don’t want you to hide your face.  You should be _proud_.  Getting fucked by _me_.”

Peter whimpered, and Tony forced him to turn his head to face the rest of the prisoners.

“Say it,” Tony said, breathing heavily and tossing his head back at how good it felt. 

“Fuck me harder, Daddy,” Peter said, and Tony nearly laughed at how ridiculously quiet his voice had been.

“Say it _louder_ and with a _please_.”

“Fuck me harder, Daddy, _please_!” Peter said, louder this time, but not quite loud enough.

Tony tutted and shook his head.  “Peter, baby, I want the people on the other side of the cellblock to hear you.”

“I _said_ what you wanted me to say!” Peter cried, and his body was beginning to give way.  The boy was exhausted, and so was Tony, but he wouldn’t let Peter get away with not doing as he was told.

“Am I not making myself clear?” Tony asked.  “Yell it loud enough for them to hear, or I won’t stop.”

He heard Peter sigh in resignation.  “Oh, please, Daddy!  Fuck me harder!” Peter said loudly, this time loud enough that Tony was satisfied.

“Mmm, yeah, keep going baby, make me cum,” Tony groaned, gripping Peter’s hips hard and pounding into him more forcefully with each thrust.

“Yes, Daddy!  Oh yeah, that’s so good!”

“Fuck,” Tony breathed.

 _“Yeah, fuck his wet little pussy, Stark!_ ”

“ _Make his ass bleed_!”

“Daddy, come _on_ ,” Peter continued, his voice becoming quieter and shakier with each comment that was thrown at him from various prisoners around the cellblock.

“Daddy’s gonna cum in your tight little ass,” Tony said.  “Are you ready?”

“Mmm, yeah, Daddy.  I want you to fill me up.”

Tony didn’t last much longer.  He thrust deep inside Peter and held his position as he came.  His breathing was heavy, ragged.  He pulled out after a minute, dropping down on to his bed.

“Don’t let that cum escape,” Tony said.  “I don’t want to see a drop of it.”

Peter let go of the bars and slowly moved towards the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna get your notebook?” Tony questioned.

Peter wordlessly changed directions and went towards his notebook.  He stopped when he realised he had to bend down to pick it up.

“Problem?” Tony teased.

“I- if I bend down, I- I’ll… nevermind, I’ll get my notebook in the morning.”

Tony smiled.  “No, baby.  Daddy wants you to get your notebook now.”

“Really, I’m alright,” Peter replied. 

“Pick it up.”

“Daddy, I can’t,” Peter said.  “I- I can’t.”

“And why’s that?” Tony asked, watching Peter’s face carefully as he blushed.

“Because I- I… if I bend down, your cum will… it’ll spill out of me,” Peter said in an embarrassed whisper.

“Oh, baby,” Tony said softly.  “You have a tight little ass.  You can keep it inside.  Just bend down, pick up the notebook.  It’s not hard.”

Peter nodded quickly and then bent down to retrieve his book.  As he bent over, Tony watched with a smirk as a few drops of his cum hit the floor of the cell.

“You’re leaking,” Tony said, amused.

“Daddy, I’m sorry!”

“I’ll bet you are.  Get on your hands and knees and lick it up.  Go on, be a good boy.”

Peter hurried to his hands and knees and dropped his face to the floor, licking up Tony’s cum like his life depended on it.

“Parker, what are you _doing_?” came the voice of a C.O who had parked himself outside their cell.  Peter whipped around in embarrassment to stare wide-eyed at the C.O.

“He’s cleaning,” Tony said.

“With his _tongue_?”

“Yeah, just ask him,” Tony replied, glancing at Peter, who was still completely naked and now bright red again.

“Why are you naked and cleaning the floor with your tongue, Parker?” the C.O asked.

Peter blinked rapidly, glancing back and forth between Tony and the C.O.  Tony nodded at him, and Peter spoke in a hushed voice.  “Because I’m a filthy whore.”

The C.O snorted.  “That you are,” he agreed.  “But keep it to yourself.  Put up a sheet next time.  Others are complaining.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Peter said quickly.

“I did _tell_ him it was weird,” Tony said.  “But Peter _insisted_ that we do it without the sheet.”

“Faggot,” the C.O said, spitting through the bars at Peter and just narrowly missing him.  He walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

They sat for a minute in silence before Tony cleared his throat.  “Clean it _up_.”

“Daddy, that’s disgusting, please don’t make me,” Peter protested.

“I’m not talking about the _spit_ , I’m talking about my cum.”

Peter turned back to see that more of Tony’s cum had spilled out of him and he leaned down to lick it up.

Tony got off the bed and shoved Peter’s face down onto the floor, right into the puddle of cum.  “Lick. It. Up.”

“Daddy, I’m _trying_ , but-”

Tony rubbed his face in it roughly and then spat on Peter’s other cheek.  “ _That’s_ for flirting with the C.O.  Only _I_ can spit at you.  Got it?”

“Yes.  Yes, Sir.”

Tony let go of Peter and returned to the bed, eyeing him with a satisfactory smirk.  “You know, I like that view.  You can stay like that.”

“F-For how long?”

“All night.”

“But-”

“-Or I could continue fucking you all night?  Your choice,” Tony growled.  Peter was still on the floor, face pressed into the puddle, a splatter of spit on his cheek and his ass in the air, hole gaping and leaking with Tony’s cum.  His hands were out in front of him, clutching at his notebook.

“So are you gonna stay like that for me?” Tony asked gently.

“I- yes.  Yes, Daddy.  Gonna stay like this for you all night.”

“Good.”


	7. Day 912

Tony stood, leaning against the phone booth with his face turned towards the wall.  He spoke in low whispers so that nobody around him could hear what he was saying.

“You’re sure?” he murmured, lips curling into a smile.

“I’m sure.  She’s invited me over for _dinner_.  She’s into me.”

“Good.  So you’ll get to go inside the house,” Tony said.  “Make sure you act like you’ve never been there before.  She can’t _know_.”

“I know, I know.  And I’ll grab you a few things, mail them to you.”

“Thanks,” Tony said.  “That’s great.  Make sure you have her wrapped around your little finger by the time he gets out.”

“My payment?”

Tony rolled his eyes.  “It’ll be with you within the hour.”

“Good.  Anything else, boss?”

“Nothing.  Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Tony said.  “And keep me updated.”

Tony hung up the phone, smiling.  This was good news – actually, this was _great_ news.  Peter’s sentence was very near its end, and he was beginning to put things into place to make sure the boy would still be his, even when he got out.   

After making a quick call to arrange the payment, Tony walked back to the cell, grinning.  When he got inside, he leaned back against the wall, folding his arms.  He stared at Peter, who seemed to shrink under his gaze.

“You been talking to anyone?” Tony questioned.

“No,” Peter replied. 

“Been out the cell?”

“No.  I’ve been here.  Like always,” Peter muttered, sounding resentful. 

“Good boy,” Tony said, still grinning.  “You look pretty today.  What are you trying to do to me?”

Peter glanced down at himself and tensed up.  “I- I look the same as always, I-”

Tony stepped closer and pressed a finger to Peter’s stuttering lips.  “Shhh, it’s okay, baby.  You can admit that you’re a horny little slut and all that you want is for your Daddy to fuck you.  I won’t think any less of you.”

Peter closed his eyes, and Tony could feel him shaking.  He removed his finger from Peter’s lips and raised his eyebrows at him.  “Well?  What have you got to say for yourself?”

“I- I’m a horny slut,” Peter whispered.  “And I want you to fuck me.”

“Aw,” Tony said softly.  “That didn’t sound very convincing.”

“Sorry.  I’m a horny slut and I want you to fuck me _so_ hard, Daddy.”

Tony palmed at his cock through his clothes, groaning at the look on Peter’s face.  He looked a beautiful mixture of scared, sad and exhausted, and Tony loved it.  He watched Peter’s eyes drop down to look at him palming himself, and he heard the boy swallow.

“So, what are you waiting for, sweetheart?”

Peter got up and walked over to the door, dropping the sheet.  _Good_ , Tony thought to himself.  _He’s being obedient._ Peter walked over to the bed wordlessly, slipped out of his clothes and bent over.

“Mmm,” Tony moaned, reaching out to grip Peter’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart.  “Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.”

Tony heard Peter make a small incoherent sound, and it only proved to turn Tony on more.  He ran his finger over Peter’s hole, watching as the muscle contracted under his touch. 

“Mm, Daddy’s boy just wants to be filled up, doesn’t he?” Tony muttered through gritted teeth.  He was painfully hard, but Peter was being compliant so he wanted to take his time and _enjoy_ it.

“Yes,” came Peter’s voice, muffled by the bedsheet.  Tony glanced up to see that he had his face buried in the sheets, hands gripping the mattress.

Tony smirked and slowly started pushing his finger inside, loving the way Peter whimpered softly. 

“Is that too dry, baby?  Am I hurting you?”

“Y-yes,” Peter said quietly.  “It hurts.”

“Aww, we can’t be having that, can we?” Tony murmured.  “Daddy’s gonna spit on your pretty hole, okay?  Loosen you up a bit.”

Tony watched as Peter nodded, hands gripping the mattress tighter.  He sucked in, collecting as much saliva as he could in his mouth, and then leaned down so that his face was close to Peter’s ass.  He removed his finger and spat. 

“You’re so dirty,” Tony said, using his finger to spread his spit around, massaging Peter’s hole and pushing inside again, this time a little more easily.  “Aren’t you?”

“’M so dirty,” Peter agreed. 

Tony fingered him for a while, slowly opening him up and listening to him moan adorably beneath him.  He gradually added a second finger, and then a third.  He must have hit Peter’s prostate, because the boy cried out.

“What do you want?” Tony asked gently, pushing his fingers back in to hit the same spot, smirking as Peter gasped at the feeling.  “Tell me, sweetheart.  Communicate.”

“I want- I-” Peter groaned again.  “-Want your cock, Daddy.  Please?”

Tony leaned down to kiss the soft skin of Peter’s ass.  “God, baby.  Since you asked so nicely.”  He carefully removed his fingers and turned Peter over so that he was lying on his back, staring up at Tony.  Despite Peter’s obedience and promising words, Tony could see that he’d been crying.  _Of course_ , he thought.  _He’s pretending_.

But Tony was used to that.  He could only wish Peter would actually enjoy it, and he reminded himself that _one day_ , Peter would really love it.  But for now, pretending was okay.  He was doing a great job, and Tony wanted to reward him for that. 

“Can you lick Daddy’s fingers clean?” Tony asked.  “Go on, I know you love tasting yourself, don’t you?”

Peter nodded.  “Yes, please.”  Tony reached his hand out and Peter opened his mouth, taking all three fingers inside, licking and sucking them clean, all the while staring up at Tony.

“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me,” Tony murmured, watching through half-lidded eyes as the younger boy sucked on his fingers, giving him both the most innocent yet _dirtiest_ look ever.  Tony almost didn’t want to pull his fingers out, but he also had other plans for Peter.  With a sigh, he removed his fingers and brought his hand back to pull his cock out.  He then reached out to spread Peter’s legs apart, as wide as they would go.

“Hold them like that,” Tony ordered, and Peter did as he was told.  Tony stepped back a little, licking his lips at the sight before him.  “God, look at you.  You’re such a fucking slut.”

“Yes I am,” Peter said.

Tony stepped closer again, lining his cock up with Peter’s nicely-prepared hole.  He pressed the head against it, teasing him.

“I want you to talk dirty to me,” Tony purred, pressing harder against him, careful not to let himself slip inside. 

Peter swallowed, still staring up at Tony with tear-stained eyes.  “Fuck me.”

“Mmm, you’d like that, huh?”

“I’d love that,” Peter said quietly.  “I want you inside me, Daddy.  Please fuck me?”

Tony let his cock slide against Peter’s perineum.

“Please,” Peter’s small voice came again, and Tony was finding it very hard to resist.

“Say something really dirty and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” Tony said, staring down into Peter’s eyes.

Peter blinked up at him and pulled his legs impossibly further apart.  “I _need_ your cock, _please_?  I’m a desperate little slut and I _need_ you deep inside me.  Please, Sir, I’m begging you.”

“Fuck”, Tony groaned, pushing his cock inside Peter without anymore deliberation.  He heard the boy gasp at the sudden intrusion. 

“Oh yes, Daddy,” Peter whispered.  “Yeah, like that.”

Tony wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into Peter today, but he was loving it.  He grabbed the railings of the top bunk as something to hold on to so that he could plough into Peter as hard as possible.  There was no time for slow, gentle thrusts to get Peter used to it – no, Tony was ready to come any second and he wanted to get the most out of his boy’s pretty ass.

His hips smacked against Peter’s ass with every thrust, the brutal sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the walls.  Peter was a mess beneath him; nails digging into his ankles as he tried desperately to keep his legs apart while he was practically screaming at how Tony was fucking him. 

“You’re so _loud_ ,” Tony growled.  “Everyone can hear you, you fucking whore.”

“Aaah, Daddy, _please_ ,” Peter gasped, biting down on his bottom lip hard and drawing blood.  “God, yes, fuck me _harder_.”

 _Harder_ , Tony thought with a smirk.  This was the Peter he liked.  If only he was always like this.  Tony was happy to oblige, slamming into him with all of his force.  He was just about ready to come…

“You’re gonna feel Daddy’s cum inside you,” Tony said.

“In my-” Peter winced at how hard Tony was fucking him.  “-In my mouth.  Wanna taste you.”

“Oh, really?” Tony groaned.  “Come on then.”

He pulled out eagerly and watched as Peter scrambled to climb off the bed and get on his knees.  He was about to jerk off on Peter’s face, but before he could, Peter had taken his cock in his mouth.

Tony grabbed Peter’s head and guided him, although Peter didn’t really need it.  He was sucking Tony off expertly, and Tony knew he was done.

He came hard, shooting his load down Peter’s throat while his hands held Peter’s head firmly in place.  He threw his own head back, gritting his teeth at the way he felt Peter swallowing around his cock, not letting a single drop of cum go to waste.

“Fuck, baby, that was so good,” Tony said breathlessly, pulling out and placing a finger under Peter’s chin to pull him up.  Peter stood up shakily, and Tony assumed he was pretty sore from the how roughly he’d fucked him.  “Did you like that?”

Peter nodded, eyes fixed on Tony’s.  “Yes, Daddy.  I loved that.”

Tony leaned forward to plant a kiss on Peter’s flushed cheek.  “I love you.”

Peter looked down.  “I love you, too.”

* * *

It was late, the cellblock was dark, and Tony was wide awake.  All he could think about was how _good_ Peter had been earlier.  If only he could always be that way.  He wasn’t even sure Peter was awake, but he found himself speaking anyway.

“You were great today,” Tony whispered into the darkness.  He felt the bed move and smiled.

“Th-thanks?”

“Why do you sound so unsure?” Tony asked.  “You know you were good.  And you know _why_ you were good.”

There was silence for a moment and then the bed moved again as Peter turned over.  “I don’t know what you mean.”

Tony stared up at the top bunk, talking to it as if he was talking to Peter face-to-face.  “You let yourself have _fun_ without resisting me.”

“It’s not _fun_ ,” Peter murmured, and Tony tried not to let the words hurt him.  “It’s just easier for me if I go along with it.”

“So you didn’t enjoy me fucking you today, then?” Tony asked, keeping his voice calm despite how betrayed he felt.  “You can be honest.”

“I’d like to sleep now,” Peter whispered, and Tony could hear the fear in his voice.

“We’re having a discussion,” Tony continued.  “You aren’t allowed to sleep till I say you can.  Now answer my question.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from above him and then Peter spoke.  “No.  I didn’t.  I never do.  Can I sleep now?”

“So you lied to me earlier today?  When I asked if you liked it and you said ‘yes Daddy, I loved that’?”

“Yes.”

Tony gritted his teeth.  “When are you going to learn to stop _lying_?”

“I- I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that,” Tony said.  “ _Sorry_.  But I don’t think you really mean it, do you?”

Peter didn’t reply.  Tony knew he wasn’t sleeping – nobody fell asleep that quickly.  He was _pretending_ to be asleep, and that was it for Tony. 

“Have you always been a little brat who doesn’t do as he’s told?  How did your Aunt May get you to do as you’re told?  Do you lie to _her_ , too?”

“What did you just say?” Peter asked, and his voice was high, terrified.  “How do you know about-”

“-Your aunt?  I told you before, I’ve got people on the outside,” Tony said, smirking in satisfaction.  “She’s really beautiful – long dark hair, big brown eyes.  She’s a big picture-person, isn’t she?  My guy on the outside says her living room is _full_ of framed photographs.  You were a cute kid.  He sent me his favourite photo of you two.  I have it here, under my pillow.  The one where you’re eating an ice cream at the beach and she’s wearing that pretty pink dress.  You know the one, don’t you? She’s not really my type but my guy on the outside thinks she’s just _ravishing_ -”

“-Shut _up_!” Peter yelled, jumping out of the bed and rounding on Tony.  Tony didn’t flinch – he only continued smirking.

“Sorry, did I upset you?” Tony asked.

“You’re _lying_.”

“Am I?” Tony asked, sitting up casually and pulling the photograph out from under his pillow.  It was dark, but there was enough light for Peter to see that Tony hadn’t been lying about the photograph.

Peter looked utterly distraught.  He tried grabbing the photo from Tony, but Tony pulled it back just out of his reach, grinning.

“Look at you,” he cooed.  “How old were you there?  Six? Seven?”

“Give it to me, you sick bastard!” Peter cried, still trying to grab the photo from him.

“Oh, you’re not _having_ this,” Tony said calmly, holding Peter back with his free hand.  “This is _mine_ now.  Just like _you’re_ mine now.”

“It doesn’t _belong_ to you,” Peter hissed, and Tony had never heard him so angry.  He’d obviously hit a nerve, and he was glad.  At least he knew what Peter’s aunt meant to him – he could _use_ that to get him to do things.  He could use it to manipulate him.

“This is mine now, sweetheart.  But I can get my guy to bring you another photograph?  Any preference?  He has a spare key to your aunt’s place.”

“Leave her alone, _please_ don’t hurt her, okay?” Peter said, voice thick with desperation.  “She doesn’t deserve this.  Just… leave her out of this.”

Tony carefully tucked the photograph under his pillow, watching as Peter’s eyes followed his movement.  “You won’t touch that.  If you do, someone _will_ be paying her a visit.”

Peter backed away, glaring at Tony with a look of pure loathing.  “Yes,” he said coldly.

“I mean, I can’t _guarantee_ that nobody will be paying her a visit,” Tony continued.  “My guy on the outside… he’s really been _enjoying_ her company.  aI think they actually had a date planned for tonight.”

“I swear to God, I will do _anything_ you want,” Peter said.  “Just please tell him to leave her alone.”

“Mm,” Tony said, cocking his head to the side and watching Peter.  “It’s sexy how you feel so strongly about this.”

“She’s my only family! Of _course_ I feel strongly about this.  Just… please give me your word that you won’t hurt her!”

“Can’t do that, baby,” Tony said, standing up to corner him. 

Peter gritted his teeth.  “I _hate_ you.”

“You’ve got a way with words,” Tony said, and luckily for his quick reflexes he noticed the swing of Peter’s arm before the younger boy could get a chance to hit him… no… Tony held Peter’s arm in place, seething.  He had some sort of weapon in his tightly-closed fist.

“What’s _this_?” Tony asked, glaring furiously between Peter’s face and the piece of sharp metal in his hand.  “Were you trying to… kill me?”

“I- I wasn’t thinking,” Peter said, shaking.  “Crap, _crap_ , I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.  Please don’t be mad at me, daddy.  I-” he dropped the weapon, breaking down into tears.  “-I just got carried away, I… I’m _sorry_.  Please forgive me.”

“How long have you had this?”

Peter was a crying mess, and anything he said was indistinguishable from his violent sobs.  The only words Tony could make out were ‘please’ and ‘sorry’.  He let go of Peter, shoving him hard against the wall, and then he picked up the piece of metal from the floor, turning it over in his hands.

Peter whimpered as Tony brought the blade up to his neck, the sharp edge digging into his skin.  “And you were being such a _good_ boy earlier,” Tony growled.  “I don’t _want_ to hurt you, but you’re making this so difficult.”

Peter couldn’t speak with the blade pressed so hard against his neck.  He made a strained sound as tears streamed down his face.

“You pull _anything_ like that again,” Tony said, breath hot against Peter’s face.  “I’ll do worse things to you than you could possibly imagine.  You think I care about the consequences?  I’m in for a life-sentence, baby, just remember that.”

Peter tried to nod.  Tony slowly dragged the blade down away from his throat and over his chest.  Peter let out a gasp, breathing in as much as he could to try to relieve his chest from the sharp point that was breaking into his skin.  But Tony moved the knife again before he could do too much damage, guiding it down Peter’s body and stopping at his crotch.

“Sweetheart, you don’t _need_ that pretty little cock of yours,” Tony whispered into Peter’s ear, pressing the knife against him softly.  “The only things I need from you are your holes.  You’re here for me to _fuck_ , that’s all.  Your cock is a _privilege_ that I _let_ you have.  Remember that.”

With that, Tony removed the blade and turned to walk back to his bed.  “You’re allowed to sleep now.  And I’ll be keeping this.  Safety precaution.  Goodnight, baby.”

Tony climbed into bed, slipping the weapon under his pillow next to the photograph, and closed his eyes.  He was disappointed in Peter, yes, but mostly he was hurt.  He was glad that Peter was crying tonight, because it allowed him to let out a few tears of his own.  He hadn’t cried in _years_. 

 _Fuck him_ , Tony thought as he wiped away his tears.  Peter had _got_ to him.  And it was in that moment that Tony knew what had to happen.  “You’re not making it out of this prison alive,” he said, voice cold.  He knew Peter had heard him, as his crying suddenly ceased, although the boy didn’t speak.  “183 days left of your pathetic little life.  _That’s_ what you get for fucking with _me_.  Sleep well, baby.”

Peter’s only response was a stifled whimper.


	8. Day 918

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I love you guys so much for all of your comments! I got too excited about this chapter which is why it's posted so quickly after the previous one haha.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Over the next couple of days, Peter was quiet – quieter than usual.  Even when Tony fucked him, he wasn’t as vocal about how much he “loved” it or how much he wanted Tony to stop.  Tony supposed it had something to do with the death threat he’d given him.  But Jesus, could he loosen up already?  Tony only had a limited amount of time left with him, and this new quiet Peter was starting to bore him. 

They were in the yard one day, when Tony finally had enough of the silence.  They walked together, Tony’s hand wrapped around Peter’s wrist as always, but they didn’t speak.  Tony stopped walking, making Peter stop.  He looked him in the eye, causing the boy to look away.

“What’s wrong?” Tony questioned.  Again, silence.  Peter only shrugged.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Tony said.  “You’ve been quiet for days.  Did I do something to upset you?”

This made Peter look up at him.  He looked as though he was fighting the urge to laugh in disbelief, although he somehow still managed to look angry at the same time.  “You told me you’re going to kill me.  Excuse me if that makes me not want to talk to you.”

“Hey, you lower your voice,” Tony hissed.  “Or your Aunt May will find a bullet in her head.”

Peter stared at Tony wearily.  “I apologise if I spoke too loudly,” he said in a dull monotone.  Tony didn’t like that – he didn’t like it at _all_.  Letting go of Peter’s wrist, he grabbed him by the forearm, fingers digging roughly into his lightly-muscled bicep.

“What’s that _attitude_?” Tony asked. 

Peter winced at how hard Tony was holding his arm.  “I’m sorry, I just- I’m tired.  You seem to have a problem with every single thing I do.  I stay quiet, you tell me to talk.  I talk, you say I talk too loudly.  I don’t know what to do to make you happy.”

“You stop with that attitude, _that’s_ what you do,” Tony muttered, dragging him back into the building forcefully. 

“Where are you taking me?  What are you doing?” Peter asked in a panicked voice, struggling against Tony. 

When they reached the cell, Tony threw Peter into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.  He dropped the sheet without glancing away from Peter, eyes fixed on the whimpering boy on the floor, who was now backing himself into a corner.

Tony slowly walked over to him, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him up.  Their faces were only inches apart, and Tony pressed his entire body weight against Peter’s small frame, pinning him against the wall.

“Please… please don’t kill me,” Peter begged, voice high.  “Please, Tony, I _love_ you, _please_ …”

“You love me, huh?” Tony asked, eyes dropping to stare at Peter’s soft lips for a second and then moving back to look into his scared eyes. 

Peter nodded quickly, blinking away tears.  “Yes.  I do.  I love you so much.”

Tony hummed, smirking.  “Prove it.”

“I-”

“-No. Shh, no talking,” Tony said, slipping a hand beneath Peter’s pants and grabbing his cock.  “If you really love me, you’ll get hard for me.”

Peter nodded again, exhaling deeply and closing his eyes.  Tony jerked him off slowly, leaning closer to whisper in his ear.

“Get hard for me, baby,” Tony murmured.  “Prove to me that you deserve to live.”

Tony stroked him faster and faster, but nothing seemed to be happening.  He could hear Peter’s quiet sobs, and he sighed loudly.

“Daddy’s gonna kill you if you don’t get hard, baby,” Tony said.  “Come on, it’s not that difficult.  Do I not turn you on?  Hm?”

“You- you do, I just… I’m sorry, I’m trying,” Peter said quietly.

Tony tutted and shook his head.  “Try _harder_.”

“I _am_!” Peter cried, and Tony leaned back a little to look at his face.  Peter didn’t look like he was enjoying himself – he didn’t even look like he was _pretending_ to enjoy himself.  Hell, he didn’t look like he _was_ trying at all, and this only made Tony angrier.

“What kind of pathetic excuse for a man can’t even get a boner?” Tony spat, loving the way Peter’s face reddened.  He continued stroking Peter’s cock, but it was still as soft in his hand as it had been ten minutes ago.  “Daddy’s not happy with you.”

“I’m _sorry_.”

“You will be,” Tony said, letting go of Peter’s cock and taking a few steps back towards the bed.  “I’ll show you how a _real_ man gets hard.  Come on, come here.”

Peter shuffled over to Tony, and Tony pushed him to the floor.  “Sit back against the wall,” Tony ordered, and Peter did as he was told.  He seemed to be back to his silent obedience.

Tony sat down opposite him with his back against the bedframe.  “Alright, Peter.  You’re gonna watch me.  I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Peter didn’t respond, so Tony sighed.

“Answer me when I talk to you.  I said you’re gonna watch me.  You understand that or are you a fucking moron?”

“I understand, Sir,” Peter whispered so quietly Tony probably wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been watching Peter’s mouth.

Tony reached back to grab something from under his pillow and then placed it on the floor in front of him.  He heard Peter’s sharp intake of breath when the boy realised it was the photograph of him as a child with his aunt.

“Problem?” Tony asked.

“N-No, Sir.”

Tony slipped his pants off and reached for his cock, staring at Peter.  “Are you watching me?”

Peter looked away from the photo to Tony, swallowing nervously.  “Yes, I’m watching.”

Tony started jerking himself off, moaning unnecessarily loudly as he felt himself start to get hard.  He used his free hand to pick up the photograph and stared down at it.

“Yeah, baby,” Tony muttered.  “This is what gets me off.  You gotta find something that turns you on, that’s how you get hard.”

Tony glanced up to see Peter’s head turned away, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“What’s your problem?” Tony said angrily.  “ _Look at me_.”

Peter snapped his head back to look at Tony.  “S-sorry.”

“Does it upset you that I’m wanking off to a picture of you with your precious Aunt May?” Tony asked, smirking at the way Peter flinched.  “Does it upset you that I’m gonna cum all over it?”

Peter looked as though he was trying to speak, but all that he managed was a soft whine as his bottom lip trembled.

“Aww, baby, you look so pretty when you cry,” Tony said, stroking his cock faster, inches away from the photograph.  “Why’d you think I make you sad all the time?  It turns me on when you cry.”

“Everything turns you on,” Peter mumbled. 

Tony smiled.  “Mmhm,” he moaned.  “Especially this photo.  Look how care-free you were back then.  So happy.  So young-”

“-I was a _child_ ,” Peter retorted, sounding disgusted.  “You’re _sick_.”

“Tell me something I _don’t_ know,” Tony snorted.  “Now keep watching.  Daddy’s nearly ready to cum all over your pretty picture.”

Peter seemed as if he was trying hard not to watch, which only turned Tony on more.  He loved when Peter was uncomfortable.  He jerked off faster, until he could feel his orgasm quickly approaching.

“Fuck, yes,” Tony muttered as he came, ropes of white cum shooting across the photograph.  He watched Peter’s face and smiled in satisfaction at Peter’s disturbed expression.  He squeezed every last drop of cum out of his cock, letting it drip onto the photo, and then he placed the photo back onto the floor.

“It’s all yours now,” Tony said, getting dressed.

“N-no thanks, you can keep it,” Peter said in a strangled whisper.

Tony leaned down and slid the photo across the floor towards Peter.  “It’s _yours_.”

Peter blinked down at the cum-covered photograph.  “Thanks…”

“Well, you better clean it up.”

“I’m… sorry?”

“ _Clean it_ ,” Tony said sternly, grabbing Peter’s head and shoving his face down onto the photograph.  “Lick my cum up, you dirty slut.  Yeah, imagine Aunt May could see you right now, huh?  Licking my cum off her pretty face.  What would she think of her precious boy?  Not so sweet and innocent now, are you?  Mmm, go on baby – clean it all up for Daddy.”

Peter licked the cum up, just as he was told.  He looked as though he’d burst into a fit of tears at any moment and Tony loved it. 

“Good boy,” Tony purred.  “Nice and clean.  How did it taste?”

“D-delicious, Sir,” Peter replied.

Tony planted a kiss on Peter’s forehead and then he grabbed the photograph and stuffed it roughly into Peter’s mouth without warning.

“How does _that_ taste?” Tony asked.

Peter tried to speak, but Tony only pushed the crumpled photo further down his throat, making him choke on it.

“Spit it out.  I wanna hear you tell me how it tastes.”

Peter closed his eyes, shuddering when Tony ran a hand down his back as an attempt to soothe him.  He spat the photo back onto the floor and looked away in shame.

“So?” Tony asked.

“Tasted g-good,” Peter said, placing a hand on his throat to soothe himself where he’d choked. 

“That’s good, baby,” Tony said.  “Like I said, the photo’s yours now.  And Daddy taught you how to get hard like a real man, so you’ve had a pretty successful day so far, I think.  Haven’t you?”

“Y-yes, I have.  Thank you.”

“You wait here, okay?” Tony said gently, kissing him again on the forehead.  “Daddy’s gonna bring us something to eat from the kitchen, and then he’s gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.  Okay?”

Peter nodded in resignation as Tony stood up and headed out of the cell, smiling to himself.

* * *

Having access to food at all hours of the day was easy for Tony.  All he had to do was promise one of the C.Os some money, and he had them wrapped around his little finger.  He stood outside the kitchen and waited as one of the C.Os snuck in to get him what he’d asked for.  He couldn’t wait to get back and fuck Peter raw.  The boy was looking deliciously fuckable today, and Tony would be able to last longer now that he’d already came today.

Tony was broken out of his thoughts when someone spoke.  “Uh, Stark?”

The voice belonged to one of the other prisoners – Walters.  Tony glanced at him. “What is it?” Tony asked.

“Thought I’d let you know, just saw your boy using the phone,” Walters said nervously.  Tony had asked him and a few other guys to keep tabs on Peter, to make sure he wasn’t doing anything that Tony wouldn’t approve of.

“Using the phone?” Tony asked through gritted teeth.  “Is he still there?”

“No, he went back to the cell.”

Tony sighed.  “Did you hear what he was speaking about on the phone?”

“I only heard the end of the conversation,” Walters said quickly.  “He was telling someone to run away and to trust him – that someone was dangerous.  I’m sorry, I didn’t really hear much else.”

Tony was livid.  The _one_ time he’d left Peter alone and he had pulled something like this.  Peter had _never_ used the phone before – probably because he didn’t want Tony to find out who his loved ones were.  But now that Peter knew that his aunt was in danger, of _course_ he’d try to warn her… how had Tony been so careless?

He didn’t say anything to Walters.  He stormed back away from the kitchen.  _Fuck food_ , Tony thought.  _It’s like he WANTS me to fucking murder him_.

Tony walked fast back to the cell.  He still couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of the boy.  Tony would make sure Peter knew he’d fucked up – big time – and then he’d go and call his guy on the outside to let him know that their cover had been blown.

When Tony reached the cell, he glanced around for a moment, half-expecting Peter to not be there, but then he spotted him lying in his bed on the top bunk.

“You-” Tony growled, rounding on Peter and grabbing him, turning him over to face him.  Peter’s body was limp, and Tony’s eyes flickered to the bedsheet which was soaked red.

“Shit,” Tony breathed, taking in the sight.  Both of Peter’s forearms were sliced open, long vertical lacerations dripping with fresh blood.  The sheets were saturated, and Peter’s eyes were closed, lips slightly parted.  His hand was loosely holding the blade that Tony had confiscated from him the other night. 

 _Fuck_ , Tony thought desperately, a million thoughts whirring through his head.  _Shouldn’t have left him alone_.  He’d made too many mistakes.  He’d _underestimated_ Peter. 

His heart hammered in his chest.  He couldn’t just watch the boy _die_.  Heck, he _loved_ him.

Tony climbed up to carefully lift Peter into his arms, gently running a hand through his hair.  “Baby, you’re gonna be alright.  I promise,” he whispered, although he was sure Peter was completely unconscious.  “You’re gonna be alright, you’re gonna be fine.”

He ran out into the main cellblock with Peter in his arms.  “HELP, SOMEONE HELP ME!”

A couple of people poked their heads out of their cells, but nobody was really too fussed.  People committed suicide a lot in prison – it wasn’t unusual.  But Tony wouldn’t allow Peter to get away with it.  No, his boy wasn’t _allowed_ to kill himself.  He ran frantically towards the staff area and banged on the bullet-proof glass, looking into where the C.Os were sitting.

“HELP ME!” Tony yelled, glaring at the C.Os and then down at Peter’s lifeless body.  “He’s _dying_!”

He watched as someone picked up a phone and started dialling a phone number.  Things were going too slow.  Every single second felt like an hour, and Tony could feel Peter slipping away in his arms.

“Please, please, don’t go,” Tony murmured in a hushed voice, eyes watering.  “God, baby.  Don’t leave me like this.”

Tony stared down at Peter’s face, and it was strange to see him look so relaxed.  It was rare for Peter to not be tensed up or panicked or scared.  Even though he knew he shouldn’t find peace in seeing Peter look so care-free, Tony couldn’t help but smile down at him.  He was beautiful, so beautiful.  Even when he was dying…

 _Or dead_ , Tony reminded himself, coming back to reality.  _They’re taking too long_.

As if on cue, the door to the cellblock burst open and a group of EMTs came running in with a stretcher.  Tony hadn’t even realised he’d been holding his breath until he exhaled in relief at the sight of them.  They ran towards Tony, and someone took Peter from him, placing him down onto the stretcher.

Things still didn’t seem real – he felt as though he was in a trance.  But he was vaguely aware of the EMTs surrounding the stretcher and speaking urgently to one another before they started wheeling him away, and Tony snapped out of his daze.

“Hey, let me come with you!” Tony called after them, running to catch up.

One of the EMTs turned and shook his head, pointing what looked to be a taser at Tony in warning.  “You need to stay here.”

“But he’s my cellmate-”

“-And for now, he’s our patient.”

And with that, the EMT was backing out the door and closing it behind him.  Tony stood, staring at the door for a long time.  He wasn’t sure how long he stood, but he was forced back into his cell eventually, once the cell doors had to be locked.

When he got back to his cell, all he could do was think about what had happened.  He knew that Peter was ballsy, but he’d _never_ expected him to try killing himself.  Hadn’t he begged for his life earlier when he’d thought Tony was going to kill him?  Tony was confused, and quite frankly, devastated.

What if Peter _was_ dead?  Tony’s whole body went cold at the thought.  Peter hadn’t shown any signs of still being alive when Tony had picked him up.  What if he’d been too late?  What if the EMTs had taken too long to get there? 

He couldn’t help glancing up at the top bunk, where the bloody sheets seemed to be mocking him.

 _You wanted this_ , they said to him.  _Aren’t you happy, this is what you WANTED.  You WANTED him dead_.

“Fuck!” Tony cried as he ripped the sheets off Peter’s bed, backing up against the wall and sliding down to the floor where Peter had been sitting just a few short hours ago, back when things were normal.  The crumpled-up photograph was still lying on the floor, and Tony stared at it, feeling a wave of guilt bubble up in his chest.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so cruel to him…

 _No_ , Tony told himself sternly.  _I did nothing wrong.  Not my fault if he was miserable with his life_.

But Tony still couldn’t help still feeling partly to blame, and since he was alone, he let himself feel it.  He pulled the bloody sheets up to his face, and let himself cry into them.  His sobs were loud, violent, his whole body shook from the pain of the mere thought of losing Peter.  He tried to muffle the sound with the sheet, but as he inhaled, all he could smell was Peter and it only made things worse.

Tony cried until he had no more tears, and no more energy.  He didn’t even care that half the cellblock had probably heard his emotional breakdown.  He just needed to know that Peter was okay.

He waited and waited, every sound making him look up at the door of the cell, desperate for some news.  Minutes passed.  Hours.  Tony tried to keep his eyes open, but eventually he drifted off into a restless sleep, curled up on the floor of the cell draped in Peter’s sheets.

* * *

“Stark!”

The voice startled Tony, waking him up abruptly.  He sat up, and it took him a minute before he realised why he was lying on the floor, why he was covered in dried blood, why his face felt stiff from all the crying he’d done.

“Yes?” Tony said, sounding very unlike himself.  Was it concern?  Worry?  He didn’t like the way his voice sounded, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Some news on your cellmate,” the C.O said. 

Tony scrambled to his feet and grasped at the bars of the cell.  He was aware that he probably looked a total mess, and the C.O flinched at the desperate way Tony clung to the metal of the cell door.

“Tell me he’s alive,” Tony rasped, eyes wide and full of fear.  _He can’t be dead, he can’t be dead, he can’t be…_

“He’s alive.”

And just like that, Tony could breathe again.  He let his head fall against the bars and let out the biggest sigh of relief.

“Alive,” Tony whispered, loving the way that sounded.  His baby – the love of his _life_ – was alive.

“Yeah, just thought you’d like to know,” The C.O said, starting to walk away.

“Hey, wait!” Tony said quickly.

“What do you want, Stark?”

“When is he coming back?” Tony asked.  He couldn’t go much longer without seeing Peter.  He just needed to _hold_ him in his arms, to appreciate him.  Just for a few moments, at least.  After that, he’d have to make sure Peter never tried anything like that again.  But before the punishment, he needed to comfort him and let him know that he was _happy_ Peter was alive.

The C.O sighed, and Tony didn’t really like the look on his face.  “He’s not.  Not for a while, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, heart racing.  Who did he need to pay to make sure Peter was coming back to him?

As if the C.O could read Tony’s mind, he raised his eyebrows at Tony and leaned closer.  “It’ll cost you $150 for information,” he whispered.  “And a further $500 if you want me to do something about it.”

Tony waved his wrist nonchalantly and rolled his eyes.  “Done.  Tell me what’s happening.”

“Right, so they’ve stitched up his arms and they’ve got him on some pretty heavy painkillers right now,” the C.O said quietly.  “He’s been in and out of consciousness, but he’s told him he tried to kill himself and that it wasn’t an attack or anything like that.  He’s lost a lot of blood, so they’re keeping him in at least until tomorrow, and if he’s better by then they’re planning on transferring him to the psych building.”

Tony growled as he thought of Peter moving to another cell in the psych building, cosying up to some sicko.  “That _won’t_ be happening.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“ _Anything_.  Just make sure he doesn’t go there, and that as soon as he’s medically fit, he comes back here to me.  I’ll pay you double if you get him back tonight, and I’ll pay whoever else needs to get involved, too.  Just _get him back here_.”

“I’m on it.”

The C.O left, and Tony let himself relax for the first time in over twelve hours.  He’d be seeing Peter again tonight, he knew it.  Whenever money was on offer, things got done.  It was about the only guarantee in this place.

His stomach rumbled, but he couldn’t eat.  He wouldn’t eat until he had Peter back with him.  He wouldn’t leave his cell until Peter was back, in case he missed him.

Tony picked up the sheet from the floor and hung it up over the cell door, pulling the spare sheet that they usually used down.  He put the clean sheet on Peter’s bed and climbed up into the top bunk.  Tony never got time to himself.  Peter was always there.  Most of the time, Tony confined him to the cell, so the only time Peter wasn’t in there was when Peter was _with_ Tony elsewhere, wrist in hand.

Tony reached under Peter’s pillow out of curiosity to see what was there, and he felt Peter’s notebook.  He’d always wondered what Peter wrote in his book, and now was the perfect chance to read it.

He pulled the notebook out and opened it to a random page.

_‘Sometimes I think about when I was in high school, and how every day seemed like a struggle to get through.  I thought things couldn’t get worse, not after Mom, Dad, Uncle Ben.  Flash was awful to me and I thought I hated him, but I realise now that I never really knew hate.  I wish I could go back.  I wish I could tell fifteen-year-old me that my life was GOOD.  I didn’t cherish it enough.  I had Aunt May, I had my friends, I had freedom, I had the best future ahead of me.  And now I’_

The paragraph ended there, and the pen trailed down the page as though Peter had been interrupted and startled.  Tony turned over a few pages.

_‘I have exactly a year to go, and it feels like I’ve come a long way but there’s still so many days to go and I don’t think I can do it.  I don’t know how I can be that strong.  My body is exhausted.  I’m tired of crying all the time.  I miss home, I miss Aunt May.  It’s been over two years since I’ve spoken to her and she’s probably going crazy wondering why I’ve never let her visit and never called her.  The truth is, even if I did speak to her again I’d be scared that she’d be able to tell what’s happened to me in here.  I never want her to know about Tony.  I never want ANYONE to know.  I hate myself for letting him do this to me, but I can’t do anything to stop it, and sometimes I just wish I could die.  It would be better than this.’_

Tony hated the way Peter’s words made him feel, yet he couldn’t stop reading.  He needed to know what was going through Peter’s head.  The _real_ truth.  Because he knew that the boy was a great liar.

_‘If I killed someone in self-defence, would I be in a lot of trouble?  I don’t know.  I shouldn’t even be thinking like this.  I have less than a year to go.  I’ll be free this time next year.’_

Tony turned over the page to the last entry, frowning as he read what Peter had written.

_‘I’m the worst person in the world, and if only Aunt May knew the horrible, selfish things I was thinking she’d hate me forever.  Sometimes I wish that I had just let her die.  She was sick and if I hadn’t stolen that medicine to save her then she’d be gone right now but I wouldn’t be in here with HIM.  I HATE HIM.  I hate what he’s turned me into.  I don’t even know who I am anymore.  But if I had the choice to go back and do it all again, I’d let Aunt May die rather than having to come here and go through all of this endless torture.  I DESERVE to die for even thinking this way.  I’m not a nice person anymore and Aunt May deserves better than having someone  like me as a nephew.’_

Tony sighed and closed the notebook, placing it back under the pillow.  He lay down, facing the ceiling, thinking about Peter’s words.  It was nice to see that he’d had such an effect on Peter’s life, but it also hurt to know that Peter was miserable and that he hated himself.  He wondered how on Earth someone as wonderful as Peter could hate himself.  The boy was flawless.  Perfect.  Except for the fact that he constantly resisted Tony.  But Tony was _working_ on that.  Couldn’t Peter _see_ that?

He let his eyes close, hoping to get in a bit of sleep before Peter returned.

* * *

Tony woke up to the sound of the cell door opening.  He sat up in the bed and peered through the darkness to see Peter’s small form shuffling into the cell.  He was vaguely aware of the C.O taking the bloody sheet from the door and muttering something about getting them some clean sheets, but all Tony could really focus on was Peter.  The door was slammed shut behind Peter, making the boy jump.

Peter stood by the cell door for a minute in silence.  Tony couldn’t help notice how small and fragile he looked, hunched over slightly and sporting a large bandage on each arm, both of which seemed to glow in the darkness of the cell.

When Peter made no attempt to move or speak, Tony climbed down from the bed and stepped closer to him, reaching out to carefully pull him into a tight embrace.

Peter let himself lean against Tony, and Tony could hear him sniffling as he cried into Tony’s shoulder.  Tony’s hand came up to rest on the small of Peter’s back, pulling him closer.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Tony whispered, rubbing his hand slowly up and down Peter’s back to soothe him.

“S-sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Tony said quietly.  “I’m not mad, I’m just happy you’re alive.”

“You- you are?” Peter asked.  “I thought you wanted me dead.”

Tony leaned back to look him in the eye.  “I changed my mind.”

Peter exhaled, and his whole body seemed to relax.  “Why?” he asked in quite possibly the most adorable voice Tony had ever heard.

“Because,” Tony said softly, using his free hand to caress Peter’s cheek.  “I realised I can’t live without you.”

Peter didn’t seem reassured – in fact, he seemed even more scared.  But Tony didn’t care.  He led Peter over to the bed and gestured for him to climb into the bottom bunk.

“It’s okay, I’d rather sleep up th-”

“-You’re sleeping down here with me tonight, baby,” Tony whispered, guiding him onto the bed.  He heard Peter sigh in defeat and the younger boy climbed into the bed.  Tony climbed in after him and pulled the covers over them both.  He wrapped an arm around Peter, pressing gentle kisses into his hair.

Peter was tensed up again, but he needn’t be – Tony wasn’t going to do anything to him.  Not while he was physically injured and emotionally fragile like this.  Right now, all Tony wanted to do was to appreciate the beautiful boy he had in his arms and thank _God_ that he was still breathing.

“Go to sleep, darling,” Tony murmured.  “Daddy’s got you.  You’re safe here, I promise.”

“Okay,” Peter whispered back, sounding tired.

“I love you, Peter,” Tony said in between the kisses he was peppering on Peter’s neck.  “My sweet, precious boy.”

“Love you too, Daddy,” Peter said, and Tony could tell that his heart wasn’t in it, but he didn’t press the issue.  Not tonight.  Tonight, Peter could get away with just about anything because Tony was just overwhelmingly thankful that Peter was here, and that was all that mattered right now.


	9. Day 919 & 1002

The following morning, Tony didn’t really want to open his eyes.  He could feel Peter’s warm body pressed sleepily against him, and the boy was content.  Tony’s left arm was dead from where Peter was sleeping on it, and his right arm was draped over Peter’s side.  For the first time, everything seemed normal.  A normal, _loving_ relationship.  Tony wished it was real.  He wanted more than ever to be able to stay like this forever, and have Peter willingly sleep in his arms like this every night, but he knew there was little to no chance of that happening.

He let himself sigh into Peter’s soft brown curls, treasuring the moment before Peter would wake and stiffen up.  After all of the events of the past few days, Tony felt as though he’d had a harsh wake-up call.  He’d read Peter’s private thoughts written in his notebook, and he’d seen the physical proof of how his actions had _affected_ Peter mentally, and he wanted to do better.  He wanted to make Peter’s life _better_.  If only he’d seen how special Peter was from the start, if he hadn’t forced himself onto him, used him…

But Tony knew that there was no point dwelling on past mistakes.  Peter was here, now, in his arms, and he had the chance to at least try to turn things around.

Now that he’d vowed not to kill Peter, their time was still limited but Tony felt hopeful that he could at least extend their time together.  He’d make Peter _want_ to stay here with him.  He’d make Peter love him – for real this time.

Tony knew how to be charming.  It had been a long time since he’d used his charms on anyone – not since… well… he didn’t like to think about his ex.  But as Tony stared down at Peter’s sleeping form, Tony knew that Peter deserved to be treated better than how he’d been treated so far by Tony.  Peter deserved charm, romance, happiness.  And Tony would give it to him.

Peter was slowly starting to wake up. Tony felt him start to stir, and then he caught a glimpse of Peter’s eyes fluttering open tiredly.  Peter took a minute to realise he was lying cuddled into Tony, and then as Tony expected, the boy tensed up.

“Morning,” Tony whispered, pressing a kiss just below Peter’s ear.

“Good morning,” Peter replied, voice weary and quiet.  Tony ran his hand down Peter’s arm, stopping at his wrist, and lifted it up so that he could see.

“How are you feeling today?” he questioned, noticing with relief that no blood had seeped through Peter’s stitches and onto his bandages.

“Tired,” Peter said, closing his eyes again.  Tony leaned forwards again to kiss the back of Peter’s neck and then smiled against him.

“You hungry?” he asked.  There was no way Peter wasn’t hungry.  Tony himself was _starving_ – he hadn’t eaten in days, and he was sure Peter was the same.

“Mm,” Peter mumbled, eyes still shut.

“Peter?”

“Mm, yeah.  I’m hungry.  Tired, too.  Can I sleep for longer?”

Tony hesitated.  He was seconds away from yanking Peter out of the bed and dragging him to breakfast because _he_ was hungry and _he_ needed food, and Peter wasn’t _allowed_ to say no.  But then he remembered that he was supposed to be acting nice.  He was supposed to be a good boyfriend – someone Peter _wanted_ to be around.  Despite his rumbling stomach, Tony gently let Peter’s arm drop back down.

“Of course, sweetheart.  Sleep.”

Peter opened his eyes again, glancing back at Tony in confusion, but didn’t question him. 

“Sleep,” Tony murmured again, and Peter closed his eyes, letting himself drift off back to sleep.

* * *

After breakfast, Tony made a few calls to arrange payment to those he owed money, and he called his outside man to let him know about Peter warning his aunt.  He was somewhat tempted to get him to track the woman down and keep a close eye on her, just in _case_.

But he was turning over a new leaf, and stalking someone to possibly use them as leverage later on wasn’t really a good way to start. 

Tony kept his arm around Peter the whole way back to the cell, ignoring the stares he was getting from other prisoners who were intrigued by Peter and his attempted suicide.

When they reached the cell, Tony sat Peter down on the bed and then sat down next to him.

“Things are going to be different now,” Tony promised, looking Peter in the eye.  “ _I’m_ going to be different.”

“Different how?” Peter asked, sounding wary.

“I’m going to treat you right,” Tony said, placing his hand over Peter’s hand.  The boy pulled back at Tony’s touch, and Tony sighed.

“You don’t know _how_ to treat someone right,” Peter said, eyes intense and full of emotion.  Tony wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him, but he was trying to be good about _that_ too – consent and all.  If Tony had any chance at all of keeping Peter in prison with him, he knew he had to stop with the non-consensual activities. 

But _fuck_ , it was hard to resist him.

“I know how to treat a man right, Peter,” Tony said slowly.  “I’m just out of practice.”

Peter looked a little worried and dubious, but he shrugged nonetheless.  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Tony lifted Peter’s hand to his lips.  “May I?”

“May you… what?”

Tony breathed a laugh out his nose.  “Kiss your hand?”

Peter raised his eyebrows, looking utterly confused, and Tony couldn’t help licking his lips at how adorable he looked when he was confused.

“Since when did you ask permission?” Peter asked.

“Since now,” Tony said, smiling a little.  “So, can I?”

Peter shook his head, pulling his hand away and shifting away from Tony.  “No.”

“Why’s that?” Tony asked, smile fading. 

Peter looked at Tony with a cautious expression.  He seemed as though he was struggling with his words, unsure of what he wanted to say.  Finally, he spoke in the smallest of voices.

“I- I don’t like when you… t-touch me.  _Anywhere_.”

“I see,” Tony muttered, trying not to get mad.  He kept the image of Peter lying lifeless and bloody in his arms right at the front of his mind.  It reminded Tony of why he _shouldn’t_ get mad.

“So,” Peter said, sitting up straight and clearing his throat.  “Since you’re asking for permission now, I- well, I’d like to make it clear that you don’t need to ask me if you can do anything because the answer’s always going to be n-no.”

“Is that so?” Tony asked, and he could feel his cock getting hard at the way Peter tried to take control and be authoritative with him.

“Yes,” Peter said with a slight quiver in his voice.  “I’m off-limits to you.”

“But you’re _mine_ ,” Tony practically growled.  “How about you give me your ass every second day or I’ll let the other prisoners beat the shit out of you?”

Peter blinked, and then he shook his head.  “I thought you were trying to treat me right?”

“I _am_.”

“Blackmailing isn’t exactly _right_ ,” Peter said quietly.  “Besides, nobody would touch me… they’re all, well, scared of _you_.”

Tony shrugged.  “Rightfully so.  But fine.  You’re off-limits.  We’ll see how long you last without Daddy’s cock.”

Peter furrowed his brow.  “I don’t want to call you that anymore, either.”

“You’re very demanding,” Tony said, trying not to laugh.  As much as it annoyed the hell out of him that Peter was refusing him everything he loved, he couldn’t help but smile at this new side of Peter he was seeing.  Peter seemed more confident, but maybe that was because Tony wasn’t threatening to hurt him with every word of truth he spoke.

“I almost killed myself because of you,” Peter said, voice cold and detached.  “I have a right to be demanding if you’re going to suddenly act all nice.”

Tony folded his arms, regarding Peter with an apprehensive expression – he was pretty sure he knew Peter’s reaction to what he was going to say.  “I have one condition.”

“Condition?” Peter questioned.

“Yes.”

Peter sighed and his shoulders hunched forwards.  “I should have known there was a condition.  You haven’t turned over a new leaf at _all-_ ”

“-Let me _finish_ ,” Tony said, and his tone made Peter shut up immediately.  “My condition is that you stay with me here for a bit.  Extend your sentence a little.  Maybe do something bad.  I can arrange for someone to smuggle in some drugs or something and you can sell them to other prisoners and we’ll make sure you get caught.  It won’t extend your sentence by a _lot_ , but it’ll give us more time together?  What do you think?”

Peter stared at Tony open-mouthed, and Tony tried to push back the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind – oh, how he wanted to fill that pretty little mouth with his hard cock…

“I- _no_.  Why the _hell_ would I want to spend any more time with you than I have to?” Peter finally said.  “ _No_.”

Tony shrugged.  “I have to say, I’m disappointed.”

“Not my problem.”

“You’re getting cocky,” Tony mused, smirking.  “I like it.  But baby, here’s the thing – it’s not _really_ a choice.”

Peter breathed out slowly through his nose, and Tony could see the panic in his eyes.  “What do you… mean? I thought… you said you were going to treat me right…”

“Oh, I will.  But only if you agree to stay with me and extend your sentence.  Otherwise, you might as well take your pants off and bend over right this second, because I’m not going to play nice if I don’t get something in return.  Your choice, Peter.”

Peter sighed, closing his eyes.

“What’s your decision?” Tony asked, and part of him really hoped Peter would say no just so he could fuck him hard into the mattress. 

“N-no.  I’m not… I can’t stay here.  I _can’t._ ”

“Mm, I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” Tony murmured, placing a hand on Peter’s knee and slowly running it up towards his crotch.  He started palming Peter through his pants, smiling at how the boy gasped.  “Daddy’s going to fuck you now, and it’s all your fault.”

Peter whimpered as Tony stood up, freeing his own cock from his pants as it sprung up, hard and ready for Peter to take it in all ways. 

“Why are you _like_ this?” Peter asked, tears forming in his eyes. 

“Shut up,” Tony growled as he grabbed Peter’s head roughly and forced his cock in the boy’s mouth.  He let his fingers tangle tightly in Peter’s hair, pulling it hard enough to make it hurt.  Peter’s hands came up to Tony’s thighs, trying to push him off as he choked loudly on the cock in his mouth, but it was no use.

“Look at me, slut,” Tony ordered, tugging Peter’s hair and forcing him to look up at Tony.  Peter’s eyes were bloodshot, watery and his cheeks were stained with tears.  His face was red and lips pink, puffy and smeared in saliva.  It was so fucking dirty, and Tony loved it.  “Open your mouth wider.”

Peter tried to pull his head off Tony’s cock, using every bit of strength he had.  “Oh sweetheart, there’s no point in resisting.  You know that.  Just open wide and let Daddy fuck your throat.”

He watched Peter’s body hunch as he stopped trying to resist.  Tony could feel Peter’s mouth opening wider and he took the opportunity to thrust in deeper, making most obscene noises as his cock hit the very back of Peter’s throat.

“Mm, good boy,” Tony murmured, closing his eyes and thrusting harder.  “ _Fuck_ , you’re such a good boy for Daddy, aren’t you?”

Tony felt Peter nod and he pulled out abruptly, pulling Peter up violently by the hair and shoving him up against the wall.

“Are you my good boy?” Tony asked him, pinning his hands to the wall and attacking his neck with his mouth, leaving a trail of bruises down the soft pale skin.

“I- ah- I am,” Peter gasped, wincing with every bruise Tony sucked into his skin.  “I’m your good boy, Daddy.”

Tony stepped back, letting go of Peter.  He stood, staring him up and down hungrily, his hand on his cock as he jerked himself off at the sight of the dishevelled boy in front of him.

“You got my cock nice and wet for your tight little ass, didn’t you?”

Although it seemed like it pained Peter to nod, he nodded slowly. 

“Get over there and bend over, you dirty little whore,” Tony said, nodding towards the bed.

Peter shakily moved towards the bed, a look of resignation in his eyes.  Just as he started to unzip his pants, the cell door opened.

Tony shoved his cock back into his pants quickly, leaning back against the wall as casually as possible.  He glanced at Peter who looked utterly relieved. 

“Parker, you’re needed in the infirmary,” the C.O said coldly.

“N-now?” Peter whispered, and it was almost as though he didn’t believe what was happening. 

“Yes, now.  Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”

“Y-yes.  Coming,” Peter said quickly, getting off the bed and making his way towards the door of the cell.  He turned as the cell door closed, glancing back at Tony who only stared back meaningfully.  They both knew that they’d be continuing what they were doing when Peter returned.

But Tony was pretty angry that Peter had managed to get away from him for a while.  The punishment for not accepting his offer wouldn’t have as much of an effect if Peter got to escape from him for a bit.  Tony sighed and sat down on the floor against the wall, waiting for Peter to come back.  He guessed they needed to check his wounds, and while it annoyed him, he was also glad that he was getting checked up on, just in case.  He couldn’t have Peter dying on him… not after what had happened…

* * *

When Peter returned later that evening, he seemed different.  Happier?  Tony wondered why, but before he could say anything, Peter spoke.

“I accept,” Peter said quickly.

Tony raised his eyebrows.  “You accept what?”

“Your deal,” Peter replied, sounding a little cautious.  “You be nice to me… treat me well… and I’ll- I’ll extend my sentence for a while to be with you for longer.”

Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He blinked, trying not to get too excited.  “What made you change your mind?”

Peter shifted nervously and then he opened his mouth to speak.  “I don’t want you to hurt me anymore or touch me against my will,” he said quietly, looking down at his feet.  “I just… I don’t want to feel the way I’ve been feeling… wanting to end my life… and if that means I have to spend a little longer in here with you, then… I can accept that.”

Peter stared at Tony, and Tony stared back as he tried to take in what Peter had said.  Peter was willing to accept the deal, and that meant everything to Tony – he’d now get to spend more time with him so that he could figure out a way to keep him forever without the boy wanting to kill himself.  He could make Peter love him back.  He had a _chance_ now.  As much as he’d been looking forward to fucking him when he returned, he was much happier with this outcome.

“So-“ Peter started, but Tony cut him off by pulling him for a tight hug.

“Thank you,” Tony whispered into Peter’s ear, intertwining his fingers around Peter’s back.  He felt the boy hesitantly lift his own arms and very gently hug back.

“It – it’s… okay?”

Tony reluctantly let go of Peter, looking him up and down with a smile.  “I won’t lay another hand on you without your permission.  I promise you that.”

Peter looked dubious, but nonetheless, he smiled back and nodded.  Tony felt his heart flutter at the way Peter smiled – so soft and pure and… _fuck, his smile is perfect_ , Tony thought, wishing desperately that they had met under different circumstances.  He wished Peter would smile at him like that for real.

“I love you so much, baby,” Tony said, caught up in his own little world.  Peter nodded again, looking uncomfortable.  He didn’t say anything back, and Tony tried to ignore how it hurt to not hear Peter say it back.

“It’s okay, darling,” Tony murmured.  “You’ll love me for real, soon enough.  Once you really get to know me.”

“I wouldn’t… get your hopes up,” Peter said back.  “I- I’m sorry.  I just… don’t see it happening.”

“I’m a smart man, Peter,” Tony said, smirking.  “I don’t know if you know that about me.  I graduated from MIT with honours.  I know things, and I know you’ll love me back.”

Peter looked a little surprised at this revelation about Tony’s past.  Despite his hatred for Tony, he seemed impressed.

“You- you went to MIT?”

“I said that, yes.”

“I, uh, wanted to study there,” Peter said quietly.  “It was my dream school.”

“But you weren’t smart enough?” Tony guessed.

Peter frowned and glared.  “I was.  Still am.”

Tony raised an eyebrow.  “So?”

“I couldn’t afford to go to college at all,” Peter said, sounding bitter.  “But it’s… it’s fine.  I still managed to get an okay job.  It was fine, I guess.”

Tony smiled sadly.  “If only I’d known you back then,” he said.

Peter’s expression changed from bitter to alarmed in a second.  The mere thought of having known Tony back then seemed to scare the shit out of him. 

“I’d have paid for you,” Tony said, ignoring Peter’s expression.  “If you still want to go, I’ll pay for you when you get out of here.”

Peter blinked.  “I- I… can’t.  No.  Thank you, but no.”

“You sure?  Dream school and all.”

“I feel like…” Peter paused, face full of uncertainty.  “This is some sort of… trap.”

Tony snorted.  “And what do you mean by that?”

“If I ever let you pay for me to go to college, I’d owe you a debt,” Peter said.  “And you’d make me pay it back in the most twisted ways you could think of.”

“Me? Twisted?” Tony asked, amused.  He was liking their conversation.  It was one of the best conversations they had ever had.  He just wished he’d been nicer to Peter earlier on.

“Yes.  _You_.  Twisted,” Peter replied, raising his eyebrows.  “You can’t honestly tell me you don’t think you’re twisted?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Tony said with a smile.  “So will you let me pay for you to go?”

Peter hesitated a moment before letting out a breath.  “I’ll think about it,” he said.

Tony grinned.  “Great!  Now, let’s talk about what we’re going to do to extend your sentence.”

“So… uh, how long are we talking about extending the sentence for?  Not… _too_ long, right?” Peter asked.

Tony laughed a little.  “That’s something we can discuss.”

* * *

**Day 1002**

A few weeks passed, and things were better than ever.  The plan was for Peter to start up a fight with one of the C.Os.  Peter only had three months left now and they intended to carry out the plan next week.  From past experience, Tony gathered that attacking a C.O added on at least six months to a person’s sentence.  Six months.  Half a year.  He’d make Peter fall for him in that time – hell, he was pretty sure Peter was already falling.  And then Peter would _want_ to stay with him forever.

The past few weeks had been amazing.  Peter had really opened up to Tony.  Tony knew all sorts of interesting things about the younger man that he never would have guessed before – Peter had never been in a relationship before prison, he’d never even kissed anyone before.  Peter had also never been out of New York.  Tony wished he could take Peter all over the world and show him all of the beautiful things the world had to offer.  He also loved photography.  Tony could picture Peter with an expensive camera – of his buying – walking around the city taking photos of the most average things but somehow making them look artistic. 

Peter was just _that_ kind of person.  He was creative, he was clever, he was the love of Tony’s life.

Tony smiled to himself as he entered the cell.  Thinking about his boy always put a smile on his face.  When he got inside, he noticed that Peter wasn’t there, but his notebook was sticking out from underneath his pillow.

Tony hadn’t read Peter’s notebook since the suicide attempt, but something compelled him to reach out for it while Peter wasn’t there.  He needed to know the truth about how Peter felt – surely he would have written it down?  Surely Peter must feel something positive towards Tony now?  After all the bonding…

He opened the notebook.

_‘Tony was nice to me today.  It was really weird, and I don’t trust him at all.  He can’t BE nice.  I tried to kill myself a few days ago and I honestly have never felt so down in my entire life. I was ready to end it all, to-‘_

Tony flicked a few pages ahead.  That had been too early on.  He wanted to know Peter’s feelings _now_.  Now that they’d had time to get to know each other.  He flicked to the most recent page.

_‘Three more days.  Three more days and I’ll be out of here.  I’ll be home, in my own clothes, in my own bed, eating dinners with Aunt May.  Everything will be back to normal again (I hope).  I hope that prison hasn’t changed me too much, but it’s something I’ll find out when I get out, I guess.  It’s so hard to keep my excitement hidden.  I can’t let Tony find out about my early release.  If he ever found out I don’t even want to think about what would happen.  His plan is to get my sentence extended, and it’s supposed to happen next week.  Little does he know I’ll be at home next week, and he’ll be stuck rotting away in here for the rest of his life like he deserves._

_I hate his GUTS.  I’ve been putting on my best act ever, and it’s so hard.  I think he thinks I’m coming around to him.  But how could I ever forgive him for the things he’s done?  I believe that he’s trying to change – he hasn’t touched me since I agreed to his deal, which is great, but he’s still a murderer and a rapist, and I would gladly see him die.  He made me want to kill myself, and that’s not okay.  Nobody gets to make anybody feel like that.  Nobody.  But anyway, I’m trying not to think about that.  For now, I have to keep acting all sweet and happy and “in love” with him.  Three more days and I can try to forget that Tony Stark even exists.’_

The entry ended there.  Tony could feel his grip on the notebook getting tighter and tighter till his knuckles had gone white.  He was vaguely aware of the fact he had his teeth clenched, and his whole body shook from some sort of intense feeling within.  Was it anger?  No, worse.  _Rage_.  _Fury_. 

Peter had lied to him, and he had almost gotten away with it.  Tony wasn’t just furious with Peter – he was mad at himself, too, for not realising.  For letting love cloud his judgement and allowing himself to be manipulated by a stupid kid half his age.

Not again.  Tony refused to let it happen again.

The door to the cell opened, and Peter walked in.  Tony stared at him, teeth still clenched, head following Peter’s movements like an animal ready to attack its prey.  Peter hadn’t looked up from the book he had in his hands, so when Tony sprung forward and pinned him hard against the wall, the boy nearly screamed out in fright.

“T-Tony, what’s… are you okay?” Peter stammered, staring up at Tony with wide eyes that glistened with fear.  Tony held a hand to Peter’s throat, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp for air, but not enough to actually strangle him.  He used his other hand to wave Peter’s notebook in front of his terrified face.

“Am I _okay_?” Tony growled.  “ _Okay_? I’m not fucking _okay_.  You LIED to me!”

“I- please let me ex-” Peter tried, but he was cut off as Tony tightened his grip around his neck, making Peter cough and splutter as he desperately brought his own hands up to try prying Tony’s fingers away.

“What’s there to explain?” Tony asked.  “You _lied_.  You don’t love me.  You never _will_ love me.”

Peter only stared back, eyes watering as he struggled against Tony’s hold. 

“Please let me go,” he begged.  His voice was raspy and hoarse, and if Tony hadn’t been so angry he’d probably find it endearing.

“I have no need for you,” Tony spat, face inches away from Peter’s.  “Either I let you go and you can go home in three days… or I _don’t_ let you go.”

“ _Please_ don’t hurt me!”

“Why _should_ you get to go home?” Tony asked, breathing hotly against Peter’s ear.  “You’re a liar and you deserve to _die_ for what you’ve done to me.”

Peter’s soft whimpers grew louder and more violent the more Tony whispered about what he was going to do to him.

“I’m going to cut that pretty little tongue of yours out so you can’t make any noise, and then I’ll tie you to the bed and fuck you till _I’m_ ready to stop.  I’ll cum all over you and beat the crap out of you.  Your body will be so mangled and fucked up that you won’t even be able to recognise your own reflection in the mirror – that’s if I don’t stab you in the eyes so that you can’t see _shit_ , and then I’m going to shove that same knife under each of your fingernails and rip them off one-by-one till you- _FUCK_!”

A flash of blinding pain shot through Tony and he jumped back automatically, letting go of Peter’s neck.  It took a moment for it to register in his head what had happened.  Peter had taken up a defensive stance, and he had a bloodied knife in his hand.  Tony placed a hand on his side where Peter had stabbed him, putting as much pressure as he could down on the wound and wincing.

“You’ll pay for that,” Tony snarled, trying to reach under his mattress to grab his own knife.

“Looking for your knife?” Peter asked, still keeping his distance.  “It’s here.  I took it a few weeks ago and you didn’t notice.  I _don’t_ want to hurt you, so _please_ just stop.  Let me _go_.  I’m begging you.”

Tony turned and lunged at the boy, grabbing him by the elbow and twisting it hard, but Peter seemed to have been expecting this.  His body tensed as he managed to turn and he swung the knife towards Tony’s body, only missing him by inches.

“Give me the knife,” Tony breathed, grabbing Peter and throwing him against the cell door.  Peter fell to the floor, but gripped on tightly to the knife, staring up at Tony with a look in his eyes that Tony had never seen before.

“HELP!” Peter cried, using his free hand to bang against the cell door.  “PLEASE SOMEONE, HELP!”

Tony took this opportunity to try and get the knife from him again.  He reached down to grab Peter’s foot in an attempt to pull him closer and get on top of him so that he could lock him in place.  He had the strength advantage, after all.  He grabbed Peter’s foot, yanking him closer and making Peter bang his head hard against the metal of the door.

“I’m going to fucking murder you, you-”

“-I _hate_ you!” Peter yelled, violently thrashing the knife around.  “FUCK YOU, I _HATE_ YOU SO MUCH! JUST LET ME _GO_.  LET ME GO!”

It was too late for Tony to back away when the knife was plunged deep into his lower abdomen.  He cried out in pain as Peter pulled the knife out and stabbed him again a few inches to the left, and then pulled out again and stabbed him again and again and again.

The pain went from excruciating to just a dull ache in moments as Peter continuously stabbed Tony.  Peter was relentless.  Tony felt himself keel over, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth until he was spluttering the black substance out onto the floor, clutching frantically at his stomach. 

“Peter-” Tony coughed, voice weak and sounding so unlike his normal voice. 

“Talk more, you’ll die quicker,” Peter spat, tears rolling down his cheeks as he dropped the knife to the floor with a loud clatter.

Tony knew it was the end for him.  Hundreds of black dots danced in his vision, making it impossible to see.  He could just about make out the outline of Peter standing in front of him.   

“I’ll always be with you now,” Tony rasped, falling into a coughing fit right after he finished speaking, but that didn’t stop him.  “This will _haunt_ you.”

“Shut up.”

“ _I’ll_ haunt you,” Tony whispered, feeling himself slowly start to slip away.  “Enjoy the rest of your life in here, _murderer_.”

Tony was vaguely aware of Peter falling to the floor in front of him.  “You’re wrong,” he heard Peter say.  Nothing seemed to happen until he suddenly felt two hands wrap around his neck and start to squeeze hard, and everything was going dark now.  The whole world was disappearing.  Tony was disappearing.  And then he was gone.

Tony’s body went limp, but Peter kept his hands tight around his neck for a good minute before shakily letting go and backing up against the wall.

“ _Now_ I’m a murderer,” Peter whispered, staring at Tony’s lifeless body and letting out a huge sigh of relief.  “Rot in hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you all know, there will be one more chapter (a short epilogue-type thing) so alas, this ISN'T the end!


	10. Day 1732

“Parker,” the C.O said briskly, staring through peephole into Peter’s solitary confinement cell.  Peter quickly got up and stared at the door in anticipation.  He didn’t usually get visits from C.Os.  Usually it was just a tray of mush shoved through the peephole.  Something must be happening.

He heard the mechanic sound of the cell door being unlocked with a key card, and then the door opened, flooding the cell with light and making Peter’s eyes hurt.  He squinted into the light and caught the figure of the C.O gesturing for him to leave the cell.

Peter walked towards the cell door and he was immediately handcuffed. 

“What’s happening?” Peter asked, glancing up at the C.O who was now becoming clearer and clearer in his line of vision now that his eyes had gotten more adjusted to the light.

“You’re going back to gen pop,” the C.O said, his tone bored as he dragged Peter through another door and down a long corridor.

“I _am_?” Peter asked incredulously.  As much as he’d being dying to get out of solitary, he was also nervous about going back to gen pop.  His entire experience in gen pop had been traumatising, and the thought of going back there when he didn’t know what to expect was terrifying.

“No, I just made it up,” the C.O drawled sarcastically.  “Move it, Parker.  We don’t have all day.”

When they entered the gen pop cellblock, Peter stared around anxiously.  A couple of prisoners were staring at him – most were new faces.  He’d been in solitary for a long time now, and that scared him – people wouldn’t know him, people might try to _hurt_ him…

But no.  Peter wouldn’t allow that.  He’d do anything to stop himself from having to go through _that_ kind of torment again.

Peter wondered whether he’d be taken back to his old cell.  He hoped not – the memories of the horrific things that had happened there would probably haunt him forever, and it would only get worse by having to _sleep_ in there.  He felt his heart rate pick up as he got closer and closer to his old cell. 

 _Please no, please please no_ , Peter thought as they passed his old neighbouring cell.  But they didn’t stop.  Peter exhaled loudly, and felt himself relax a little more.  He didn’t dare look inside his old cell as they walked past.

Finally, when Peter thought there couldn’t possibly be any cells left, the C.O stopped in front of an empty cell and unlocked the door.

“Welcome to your new home,” the C.O sneered, practically shoving Peter inside and then releasing him from his handcuffs.  The C.O closed the cell door and walked away, leaving Peter alone.

Peter stood, staring at the wall for a minute.  He wasn’t used to this much noise – in solitary it had been silent.  The only thing he’d been able to hear were the footsteps of C.Os patrolling and his own disturbing thoughts.  In solitary, all he had were Tony’s whispers in his head, taunting him and humiliating him from beyond the grave.

As Peter heard other prisoners talk and yell, he felt himself smile.  Maybe it would drown out the thoughts.  Maybe it would make Tony disappear.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Peter sat himself down on the bottom bunk of the bed and then laid back against the pillow.  He closed his eyes and reveled in the busy commotion of gen pop.  He felt oddly at _home_.

Just as he was beginning to drift off to sleep, he heard a voice. 

But for once it wasn’t Tony’s.

Peter sat up abruptly, almost cracking his head on the top bunk.  He wasn’t used to being in a bunk bed. 

“Huh?” Peter said tiredly as he stared towards the cell door.  There was another prisoner standing there by the door, staring back at Peter with a cautious look on his face.  Behind him, behind the bars, a C.O stood.

“Williams, meet your new cellie,” he said roughly.  “Play _nice_ , you two.”

The C.O left and Peter stood up, staring his new cellmate up and down.  _Williams_.  He was young – a few years younger than Peter.  He looked like one of those typical “bad boys” who Peter had always steered clear of when he was at high school.  Peter’s mouth went dry as he tried hard to think of what to say.  He couldn’t let himself be treated the way Tony had treated him again.  He _refused_ to.  But this boy was already giving him a _look_ , and it was already making Peter feel small and insignificant and... nineteen again.

Peter tried not to look at Williams, but he could feel the boy’s piercing gaze on him and it burned.  Peter caught movement from the corner of his eye and jumped, before realising Williams was only extending his hand to shake.

“Aaron Williams,” he spoke, still keeping his hand out for Peter.  Peter stared down at Williams’ hand and closed his eyes.

 _Don’t let him have the power, don’t let him know you’re weak, don’t let him make you a target,_ Peter told himself.

When he opened his eyes, his whole demeanour had changed.  He stood taller, his eyes were focused rather than guarded, he didn’t feel like the _victim_.  Williams needed to know that Peter had the power.

Peter didn’t shake Williams' hand – he only stared coldly at the younger boy.  “I’m Peter Parker.”

Williams awkwardly withdrew his hand and let out a forced laugh.  “Welcome to my cell.  Bottom bunk’s mine, though.  Hope you don’t mind.  I’ve been here for the last four months.”

“The bottom bunk is mine,” Peter replied, somehow sounding a lot braver than he felt. 

“Excuse me, new kid.  Like I said, I was here _first_.”

Peter glared at Williams.  “I’ve just come out of solitary.  _I_ was here first.”

“Solitary?”

Peter noticed that Williams suddenly didn’t sound so confident.  He looked a little anxious and his tone changed.

“Are you nervous, Williams? Peter asked before he could stop himself, cocking his head to the side and feeling disgustingly like Tony Stark.

“Nervous?” Williams snorted.  “Fuck no.  Why would I get nervous because a little bitch like you comes into my cell and tries taking my bed?”

“What did you just call me?” Peter asked, trying to keep his voice steady.  The boy was cocky and loud-mouthed, but Peter couldn’t help hear those words in Tony’s voice.  He tried to keep himself calm.  He couldn’t let himself slip up.

Williams smirked at him, stepping closer.  “I called you a _little bitch_.”

Peter gritted his teeth and stayed put, not letting Williams intimidate him by invading his personal space.

“The only ‘little bitch’ here is _you_.  How old are you anyway? Fifteen?”

Williams looked offended by this and kissed his teeth at Peter, jerking his head up in some attempt to seem ‘hard’.  “Eighteen.  _And_ what?  You look like you just got out elementary school.”

“I’m twenty-four and I’ve done things that would give you nightmares.”

“Yeah,” Williams laughed.  “Sure.”

“What did you do to get yourself locked up?” Peter asked, trying to ignore the younger boy’s attitude.

Williams looked absolutely delighted to have been asked this question.  He smirked proudly.  “Dealing.”

“Not surprising,” Peter commented. 

“What’d you do?  Steal an old lady’s purse?” Williams sniggered, staring Peter up and down as if he were a joke.

Peter was brought back to being at school and dealing with bullies.  He was brought back to the way Tony used to stare at him like he was a useless, worthless _thing_ ready to be used and abused.

He wasn’t sure what urged him to shove Williams up against the wall hard with a hand tight around the kid’s neck.

“This isn’t a joke,” Peter spat.  “You want to know why I’m here?  _Really_?”

Williams still seemed to be trying to act tough, but Peter could hear him whimpering.

“I _killed_ a man.  _Murdered_ him.  Stabbed him at least twenty times and then strangled him till I felt the last breath leave his lungs.  Felt his body go limp beneath my hold as I took his life,” Peter said, staring hard into Williams’ eyes.  He tightened his grip around his neck.  “He was my _last_ cellmate.  It was the best moment of my life, and I’d be quite willing to do it again, so if you don’t want to _die_ , then I suggest you shut the hell up and don’t say another word to me for the rest of your time in here.  You understand?”

Williams nodded quickly, gasping for breath and trying to pry Peter’s fingers away.

“And the bottom bunk is _mine_.”

Williams nodded again and Peter let go roughly, almost making him fall to the ground.  Williams clasped desperately at his neck as he coughed and breathed heavily.

Peter climbed back into his bed and closed his eyes, trying hard not to cry.  He hated being so cruel and so… like _Tony_.  But it was the only way he could protect himself.  _Besides_ , he reminded himself, _the guy is an ass_.

He let that simple fact comfort him as he drifted off to sleep later that night.  He couldn’t relax until he heard the gentle snores coming from above him.  It was part of keeping his guard up – making sure his cellmate was asleep before him.  He had to protect himself.  That was the recurrent thought running through his head.  The thing that kept him sane.

But protect himself for what?  For when he got _out_?  He was in for a life sentence – he wasn’t _getting_ out for a long time.

_“Enjoy the rest of your life in here, murderer.”_

Tony’s voice rang in Peter’s head as he was on the edge of sleep. 

 _“I’ll always be with you now_.”

Peter finally drifted off into a world of dreams, and he was back in his usual place.  Standing against a cold metal door.  He was here every night, and the metal seemed to get colder and colder with each recurrent dream.

He didn’t want to turn, he _didn’t_.

But he turned anyway, because he was obliged to.  He didn’t have a _choice_.  He was a slave to his dreams – to Tony.

“There you are, baby,” Tony’s voice said smugly, echoing around the cell.  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Peter stared at dream Tony, stuck in one place, unable to move.

Tony stepped forwards and held onto him, caressing him.  “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” he cooed in Peter’s ear.  He could feel the warm breath on his neck and he wanted to wake up.  He _needed_ to wake up.  But he couldn’t.  “You’re turning into me.”

“I’m not.”

“Shhh, shh, it’s okay.  It’s fine to be me,” Tony said softly, trailing kisses down Peter’s neck.  “You _like_ being me, don’t you, baby?”

“I-”

Peter broke into a sob as Tony _shushed_ him again.  “Because you _love_ me and you’ll always have me with you, won’t you?

“I- I will.  Yes.”

“Say it.”

Peter closed his eyes and nodded against Tony.  “Yes.  I love you and I’ll always have you with me.”

“Good boy.  Now you can’t wake up till I’ve fucked you raw, alright?

“ _Please_ , no…”

“Yes sweetheart.  I _own_ you.  Now get down on that bed and give me your ass.  That’s a good boy.  Daddy loves you.”

Peter was suddenly able to move, and he shakily walked towards the bed and bent over for Tony, with tears streaming down his cheeks.

He knew he had to endure it.  He couldn’t wake up.  He didn’t have the _power_.  He would always belong to Tony and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was in for a life-sentence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you so much to everyone who invested their time in this story. For my first Starker fic, I can't actually believe I managed a multi-chap. This literally started as a short ficlet on Tumblr and it's turned into this 30k+ story and that wouldn't have happened without all of the incredible support from all of the people who commented and left kudos on this story. I love reading the way the story makes you guys feel, and it's amazing to me how much positive feedback I've had considering it's certainly not a nice story with a nice ending. I also have to say thanks because this is the first multi-chap I have completed in about six years and I never thought I'd be able to do that again, so THANK YOU.
> 
> You will definitely see some more Starker from me soon, but it won't be as dark. It'll be nice for me to get a chance to write some Starker that's fluffy for once haha
> 
> My Tumblr is Starker-Obsession if anyone wants to follow me.
> 
> I love you all xxx


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